A Storm of Stars
by The-Purple-Panda-Frog
Summary: As leaf-fall approaches, the kittypet Abigail is left for dead by her housefolk. Though she'd rather be a pampered housecat, Abigail's only chance at survival is joining one of the three Clans of the Island: DuneClan, of the Beach, SunkenClan, of the Forest, or MarshClan, of the Wetlands. Will Abigail survive? And what dark things are brewing underneath the surface? Original Clans.
1. Allegiances

A/N: Hello everyone! I've been itching with this story idea for a while. These three Clans are in a real area, in Fire Island, NY, called the Sunken Forest. Fire Island is an area with a large feral cat population, with cats being left behind by their owners ever year, so these Clans will have some different traditions when it comes to accepting kittypets into their ranks. All in all, I wanted to create three Clans that actually _felt_ different from one another, with different cultures and general trends for appearances. Give them a little more life!

Some of the names might seem strange. This is a real-world setting with many different animals than the UK books. The medicine cat herbs will be different, as will many of the prefixes. I'm using the word 'molly' instead of she-cat, partly because it works better with the term 'tom' and partly 'cause I like it. I'm also using a semi-traditional naming system, so cats are all named for their color (except in special cases, which I'll get to later), with their suffix being used to denote a particular skill. (ex; -claw means a good fighter, -whisker means a good hunter, -wing means a good climber, -leaf means a good medicine cat). Hope you guys enjoy!))

 ** _ALLEGIANCES_** **:**

 **DuneClan**

 **Leader** : _Piperstar_ \- a white molly with brown tabby patches and amber eyes

 **Deputy** : _Clamfur_ \- a lilac tortoiseshell with yellow eyes

 **Medicine** **Cat** : _Plovercloud_ \- a pale grey and white tabby tom with blue eyes

 **Warriors** :

 _Sandpelt_ \- a light brown tabby tom with amber eyes

 _Whalefur_ \- a massive blue-gray molly with green eyes

 _Ripplepelt_ \- a grey tabby tom with white spotting and yellow eyes

 _Beebelly_ \- a golden tabby tom with white paws and green eyes

(Apprentice: Mantispaw)

 _Myrtlewhisker_ \- a white molly with amber eyes

 _Frostnose_ \- a white tom with yellow eyes

 _Mousefang_ \- a brown and white tom with green eyes

(Apprentice: Gullpaw)

 _Redstripe_ \- a ginger tabby tom with blue eyes

 _Cricketpelt_ \- a dark brown and white molly with amber eyes

 _Monarchstorm_ \- a tortoiseshell molly with a white chest and paws and yellow eyes

 _Stormheart_ \- a grey and white tabby tom with blue eyes

 _Waveflower_ \- a silver tabby and white molly with blue eyes.

 _Sealface_ \- a spotted grey molly with amber eyes

 _Cherryclaw_ \- a torbie and white molly with green eyes.

(Apprentice: Siltpaw)

 **Apprentices** :  
 _Gullpaw_ \- a grey and white tom with yellow eyes

 _Siltpaw_ \- a dark brown and white tabby tom with amber eyes

 _Mantispaw_ \- a pale brown and white tabby molly with green eyes

 **Queens** :  
 _Grasstail_ \- a golden tabby molly with green eyes (Mother to: Foamkit, Saltkit)

 **Elders** :

 _Palethroat_ \- a seal-pointed tom with crossed blue eyes

 _Shellfoot_ \- a dilute tortoiseshell molly with green eyes

 _Hollypelt_ \- a brown tabby tom with a white chest and paws, and green eyes

 **SunkenClan**

 **Leader** : _Briarstar_ \- a dark brown tabby tom with a white chest, paws, and tail-tip, and green eyes

 **Deputy** : _Emberfang_ \- a dark tortoiseshell molly with orange eyes

(Apprentice: Cherrypaw)

 **Medicine Cat** : _Volenose_ \- a brown tabby molly with green eyes

(Apprentice: Maplepaw)

 **Warriors** :

 _Cicadafoot_ \- a black tom with amber eyes

 _Squirrelstep_ \- a grey-brown tabby molly with amber eyes

(Apprentice: Mudpaw)

 _Snailpelt_ \- a dilute calico molly with green eyes

 _Starlingclaw_ \- a black tom with a white underbelly and yellow eyes

 _Honeycloud_ \- a cream molly with a white underbelly and orange eyes

 _Toadpath_ \- a dark brown tabby molly with green eyes

 _Sootwhisker_ \- a grey tabby tom with yellow eyes

 _Shadewing_ \- a black molly with yellow eyes

 _Oakstripe_ \- a brown and white tabby tom with yellow eyes

 _Willowfoot_ \- a grey tabby molly with green eyes

 _Fernclaw_ \- a spotted brown molly with amber eyes

(Apprentice: Darkpaw)

 _Mousecloud_ \- a brown tabby tom with green eyes

 _Blackstorm_ \- a black tom with green eyes

 _Foxstorm_ \- a ginger molly with green eyes

 **Apprentices** :

 _Mudpaw_ \- a dark brown tabby molly with green eyes

 _Spiderpaw_ \- a black molly with amber eyes

 _Darkpaw_ \- a dark grey tabby tom with amber eyes

 _Maplepaw_ \- a ginger tabby tom with yellow eyes

 **Queens** :

 _Plumtail_ \- a white molly with blue eyes (Mother to: Azaleakit, Sedgekit)

 _Brackenheart_ \- a brown tabby molly with amber eyes.

 **Elders** :

 _Sapwhisker_ \- a golden tabby tom with orange eyes.

 **MarshClan**

 **Leader** : _Sleetstar_ \- a spotted grey and white tom with green eyes

 **Deputy** : _Swanthroat_ \- a white molly with a black spot on her forehead and yellow eyes

 **Medicine** **Cat** : _Silverleaf_ \- a silver molly with a white underbelly and blue eyes

 **Warriors** :

 _Heronclaw_ \- a white molly with yellow eyes

 _Turtlefrost_ \- a white molly with a tortioseshell patch on her back and blue eyes

 _Brightstream_ \- a ginger and white tom with blue eyes

(Apprentice: Mallardpaw)

 _Mistpelt_ \- a pale grey tom with a white underbelly and green eyes

 _Murkfang_ \- a dark grey tom with a pale underbelly and amber eyes

(Apprentice: Frogpaw)

 _Sandfur_ \- a golden tabby tom with a pale underbelly and green eyes

(Apprentice: Rainpaw)

 _Mottlepelt_ \- a grey-brown tabby molly with sea-green eyes

 _Reedwhisker_ \- a golden and white tabby tom with amber eyes

 _Wavestripe_ \- a white molly with silver tabby patches and blue eyes

 _Whitefoot_ \- a white tom with yellow eyes

(Apprentice: Spottedpaw)

 _Cloudeye_ \- a grey and white tabby tom with one green eye and one cloudy eye

 _Thistlenose_ \- a grey and white molly with blue eyes

 _Snailpelt_ \- a dilute calico molly with amber eyes

 _Mothface_ \- a pale brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

 **Apprentices** :

 _Mallardpaw_ \- a brown tabby tom with white paws and amber eyes

 _Frogpaw_ \- a brown tabby molly with a white underbelly, and amber eyes

 _Spottedpaw_ \- a dilute tortoiseshell molly with a white underbelly and amber eyes

 _Rainpaw_ \- a spotted grey tom with a white underbelly and amber eyes

 **Queens** :

 _Greyflower_ \- a grey tabby molly with a white underbelly and yellow eyes (Mother to: Snowkit, Pebblekit, Lichenkit)

 _Sorrelfur_ \- a calico molly with amber eyes (Mother to: Nectarkit)

 **Elders** :

 _Rushclaw_ \- a golden and white tom with amber eyes

 _Patchfur_ \- a black and white molly with green eyes

 _Snowstep_ \- a white tom with yellow eyes

 **Outside the Clans**

 _Abigail-_ a light brown and white tabby molly with green eyes

 _Bilbo_ \- a golden-brown tabby tom with white paws and amber eyes

 _Misty_ \- a small blue-grey molly with green eyes

 _O'Malley_ \- a dark brown tabby tom with a white underbelly and green eyes

 _Oreo_ \- a black and white molly with amber eyes

 _Cheddar_ \- a ginger tom with yellow eyes


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Abigail's stomach growled.

It had been two weeks since her housefolk had been home. Two weeks since they'd booted her out of the house, packed up all of their things up and loaded them on a shiny red wagon, and walked away. Abigail hadn't been worried then, of course- they usually left all day, sometimes for days at a time, but they almost always left food out for her if they knew they were going to be a while. She'd managed to catch a few straggly mice and toads here and there, enough to survive, but her stomach was constantly empty. As if on cue, it rumbled again, and she folded her ears back with a pout.

The brown and white tabby stood up, sniffing the air. She could taste the ocean salt on her tongue, all of the human scents from the town nearby, and the faint, earthy scent of the forest. She couldn't, however, scent any prey nearby, and she gazed longingly at the window, wishing she could be inside again. Or, at least have food again. The inside always smelled sort of stuffy, and made her sneeze.

She supposed she could follow her housefolk's fading scent trail, but… wherever they went was so loud she could hear it rumbling in her ears from where she was standing, with the sound of humans talking and stomping and singing fading into background noise. She'd never be able to find them in that mess, she'd just have to stay put until they got back. She settled into a crouch, tail thumping against the ground.

The grass beside her rustled.

Abigail jumped in the air, her tail bristling. "Who's there?!" she demanded, brandishing her claws like she knew what to do with them and resolutely ignoring the icy chill of fear trickling down her spine, "I-I'm not afraid of you!"

Her mind spun with all of the possibilities. There was no way it was a breeze. The night was hot and heavy, the humidity sticking to her pelt and making it hard to breathe. Maybe it was just a mouse or a toad that made too much noise. Or, maybe it was a fox, or a raccoon, or one of those _feral cats_ that lived around here. Her humans usually chased all of those creatures off, yelling angry things in their strange language.

But they weren't here. She was on her own.

An amused chuckle echoed from the grass. Abigail puffed her fur up and hissed, hoping to scare the intruder off. She could catch a whiff of their scent now that she was looking for it, and while it was definitely feline- a molly, if she was correct- she was surprised to note that it smelled strongly of the distant forest as well. Whoever was in the grass was clearly waiting for something, and Abigail was growing more annoyed by the second. Just who did they think they were, coming into _her_ yard and terrorizing her?! Sure, she'd never officially _marked_ the place, but… her scent was all over the place. You'd have to be an idiot not to notice.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Abigail thrust her head in the grass and found herself face to face with a pair of bright orange eyes. And… whoa, the cat in front of her was _much bigger_ than she expected. She let out a small squeak and backed up, the tortoiseshell in the grass rising up to her full size.

She was huge to Abigail, almost twice her height, and her black fur was dotted with dark ginger spots. She had a bit of an underbite, her sharp bottom fangs showing at all times, and one of her ears was torn. Several scars littered her body. Her bright orange eyes were narrowed, focused intently on Abigail's crouched form.

Abigail had unsheathed her claws, sure that this cat was going to skin her and use her pelt for bedding, but the molly just chuckled. "Put your claws away, kit. I'm here to speak with you."

The brown and white molly glared defiantly, digging her claws into the earth, but the tortoiseshell seemed unperturbed, continuing to leisurely talk. "Spirited one, then. Interesting. Have your twolegs gone home for the winter?" she asked, tilting her head.

This caught Abigail off-guard. "My what?" she mewed. She kept her claws unsheathed, but the bristling in her tail was starting to go down as the other molly kept her distance.

The tortoiseshell made an impatient-sounding noise. "Your twolegs. Tall, pink or brown skin, fur on the top of their heads," she meowed, watching Abigail carefully for signs of recognition, "They live in these nests."

Abigail cautiously sat, green eyes narrowed. "You mean humans?" she asked, keeping her tail curled tightly around her paws.

The other molly nodded, twitching her shredded ear backwards. "Twolegs, humans, housefolk- whatever you want to call them. Did they leave you here? Have they gone on the Seatreader?"

"What's a Seatreader?"

"Answer the question."

Abigail huffed. "They left about two weeks ago. But I'm sure they're coming back."

The tortoiseshell snorted. "That's what most of you say. Listen, kit. In the beginning of greenleaf, the twolegs come, bringing their kittypets and dogs along with them. At the end of every greenleaf, they leave. And they take their dogs, but leave their kittypets, like _you_ , behind to die."

Abigail's lip curled at the word _kittypet_ \- though it was said without malice, something about it sounded so… patronizing. Then the reality of what the other molly said sunk in. "Wait, what are you- What do you mean?! Of course they're coming back! Why would they just leave me here?" She meowed, voice rising an octave in panic. They couldn't just be gone, right?

The tortoiseshell gave her a sad look. A beat of silence passed, the chirping of crickets loud in the obnoxious heat. Abigail glared at her and folded her ears against her skull. "Wait, so- why are you here? Who even _are_ you?" the brown and white molly growled, lashing her tail back and forth.

"My name is Emberfang. I'm a warrior of SunkenClan," Emberfang meowed, holding her head high, "We're one of three Clans to the west of here, the other two being DuneClan and MarshClan."

Abigail opened her mouth to reply, but Emberfang seemed to anticipate it, and continued, "Clans are… groups of cats, but different than the bands of rogues you may have seen wandering around here. We are bound together by our ancestors and a code of morals- we must care for our sick, our queens and our elderly. Each of the three Clans has different skills and cultures. We must, for our territories are radically different. But every year, at the end of greenleaf, when the twolegs leave their kittypets behind, several Warriors are chosen to make the journey into the twolegplace, to seek out abandoned kittypets to join us."

The brown and white molly gave Emberfang a suspicious look out of the corner of one green eye. "Why would I join you?"

The tortoiseshell's response was short. "You'll die if you don't."

Abigail made an indignant squawk, but Emberfang shushed her with her tail. "It's not a slight against you. But almost all of the twolegs leave in leaf-bare. You won't find any luck begging from them. Even if you survive the horrible storms in the leaf-fall, without a Clan or a group to call your own, the snow and the cold of leaf-bare will kill you. You can join a group of rogues, true, but they have no morals, no code to live by. They'd just as soon kill you as take you in. This is your best option. Take it or leave it."

The small molly was silent, flicking her tail. She'd never lived through a leaf-bare, her earliest memories of the warmth of a lap and pink petals falling from a tree. She considered her options. She could stay, on the off chance that her humans would return. Possibly go back to her comfortable life, with a family she trusted and a constant source of food. Stay, with the much more likely chance that her humans had abandoned her forever, and either starve or freeze to death. Or join this cat she barely knew, and follow her into her weird forest cult.

She made a face. Not her best options.

"Say I did want to join your… Clans. What would I do?" Abigail asked, before ungracefully spitting out a clump of Emberfang's black fur that had lodged itself in her mouth.

Emberfang's whiskers twitched. "I'm glad you asked. Leave this place tomorrow at sunset; walk until you reach a twoleg path at the entrance to the forest. Follow the path. Do not- I repeat, _do not-_ leave it. Not to hunt, not to explore, not for anything. When you reach the center of the path, it will be moonhigh, and the Gathering will be taking place. There, the leaders of the Clans will examine you, and all the other kittypets, and Claim you for their Clan."

Abigail thought for a moment, then nodded shortly. She wasn't exactly sure what most of the other molly's words meant, but if joining one of these Clans really was her only chance at survival… if her housefolk had truly abandoned her…

"I understand," she mewed, "I'll be there."

Emberfang nodded, looking pleased. "I'm looking forward to it. Now if you'll excuse me- the night is still young. I'd like to see if I can find some others in your position."

The kittypet nodded, and watched the warrior turn around and fade like a shadow into the night.


	3. Chapter 2

**-Chapter Two-**

Abigail wished that sundown would come faster.

It was partly because she hadn't had any luck hunting that day- the scent of the strange tortoiseshell seemed to have driven all of the prey off- but really, she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. What did a Clan look like? How many cats would there be? Emberfang had spoken about honor and a code holding them together. Truthfully, Abigail would rather be back with her housefolk, but… since that wasn't an option, this seemed the next best thing. After all, it was either this or starve, right? Not to mention she was bored out of her skull.

The molly flicked her tail. The sun was turning red, edging ever closer to the horizon. This was close enough, right? It was pretty much already sundown, and what if something happened on the way? She stood up, shook out her fur, and scented the air. The forest's scent was stronger today, a soft breeze blowing it in her direction. She began to pad confidently towards the earthy scent, tail held high, but stopped in her tracks a few tail-lengths away. She turned her head- gave her home one last look, eyes heavy with a soft, wistful emotion, before starting on her way.

The way to the forest was more busy than the area around her house. It seemed to be a bustling human village, with housefolk of all shapes and sizes bustling around, many holding dogs and waiting in line to get on a very large, shiny, floating thing that bobbed in the water. A few of them crooned in her direction and held their hands out, and Abigail oh-so-generously allowed the ones holding food to stroke her side in exchange for a scrap. She resolutely ignored the frantic yipping of several dogs being held in place by their owners, and even stared one in the face for a while, sitting just outside of its range, until its human chased her away.

There were a few cats on the streets as well- although these were easier to miss. Sticking to the shadows, they were barely more than ragged fur draped on bones, watching her with slitted eyes. Abigail shuddered. Was this what she was fated to become, if she didn't starve or freeze to death? Then again, Emberfang hadn't looked like them. Even though she was thin, she was strong and muscular, clearly a healthy cat. Were these the kittypets that had rejected her offer?

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and Abigail somewhat reluctantly pulled herself away from the child that was rapturously petting her head and murmuring quiet things. None of these humans would take her with them, and there was no point in missing that big meeting Emberfang had told her about. She continued down the path, the smooth pavement underneath her paws being replaced by wood as the scent of the forest grew stronger. Now, though, it was joined with the scents of salt and sand, as well as a third one she couldn't quite identify.

Finally she stopped, the trees looming over her head. Truthfully, they weren't that big, the trunks gnarled and twisted into strange shapes, but it was the most trees she could ever remember seeing in one place, so she took a moment to let it sink in. Then she caught sight of another kitten- a plain looking golden-brown tabby tom was sitting at the entrance to the forest, his shoulders hunched.

"Hello," she mewed brightly, padding over to him, "Are you one of the… uh, kittypets? That Emberfang talked about?"

The tom bristled and jumped. He clearly hadn't heard her coming up on him, and Abigail watched the terror in his eyes fade with a sense of sick amusement. Was this what she had looked like last night, when Emberfang had caught her unawares? Feeling somewhat sorry for him, she decided to introduce herself.

"I'm Abigail," she mewed, puffing her chest out, "I used to be a kittypet, but I'm going to be a forest cat now, I guess. What's your name?"

The tom swallowed nervously. "Um. N-nice to meet you. Uh, m-my name's Bilbo," he stammered, "M-me too, um. Did a tom n-named Beebelly, from, um. DuneClan, I think? tell you about coming here?"

Abigail tilted her head. "The cat who talked to me was Emberfang, from…" she wrinkled her nose, "SinkClan? SunkenClan? Something like that. What's with their names, anyway? I mean, Beebelly? What does that mean?"

Bilbo looked at his paws. "I-I thought it was kinda cool. I mean, he was, um, all striped and stuff, so he, um, k-kinda looked like a bee."

Abigail, losing interest in where the conversation was headed, turned her head to the depths of the forest. "Are you going to go in?"

Bilbo paddled his paws uncertainly. "I dunno… I-I've never been the best with, um, big groups of cats, and they're, um, kinda scary. A-and, um, my housefolk might still come back..." Even as he said it, his tail tucked behind one of his legs.

The molly twitched her tail. "Didn't you get the spiel about starving or freezing to death? Neither of those sound very fun," she mewed, playfully nudging the tom with her nose, "C'mon. You can always leave if it's bad. Might as well try."

Bilbo still looked nervous, but he stood, brushing his tail back and forth anxiously, "Okay. But, uh, can we stick together? I dunno if I want to walk in there all by myself."

Abigail rolled her eyes- _this tom sure was clingy_ \- but nodded, secretly a little relieved that she wouldn't have to go by herself. "Come on, then," she meowed, trotting along the raised wooden path into the darkness of the forest ahead. Bilbo followed cautiously, his pawsteps light against the planks.

By the time the sunlight faded completely, Bilbo seemed thoroughly spooked, his head whipping around at every tiny rustle in the undergrowth. He jumped in the air at every sleepy birdsong, when a cricket chirped too loudly, when a bat flew overhead. Abigail had given up trying to comfort him after the first three times he'd shouted and cowered behind her, now focusing on taking in every scent and sound the forest had to offer.

Abigail was enchanted. This was the first time in a long time that she'd been without the distant human noise thrumming in her ears, and she _loved_ it. Every stray twig had to be examined and overturned before she could continue, every pair of eyes in the darkness stared at with rapt curiosity. The silver light of the moon made it easy to see, even with the dense canopy of twisted trees above them.

She pricked her ears up as she heard a faint cacophony of meows. "Do you hear that?" she mewed to Bilbo, who had been following her in somewhat awkward silence, "I think everyone is up ahead!"

The molly took off running, excitement thrumming in her veins. She could just barely hear Bilbo's paws thumping behind her as she burst into the Gathering Place. Abigail's eyes widened as she drew in the sight. A massive tree sat in the middle of the diverged path, with a thick grey-brown trunk and glossy green leaves. Three low-hanging branches swept over the path, which was absolutely filled to the brim with cats.

Cats of all shapes and sizes mingled. Abigail craned her neck in search of Emberfang, but couldn't pick her dark tortoiseshell pelt out in the writhing crowd. Now that she could see all of these cats in one place, it struck her that Emberfang wasn't actually that large at all. Many of the cats mingling were much taller or heavier than her. The revelation sent a chill up Abigail's spine. She was truly tiny compared to the forest cats.

"Beebelly!" Bilbo's cry snapped her out of her stupor, and she turned to see a bright golden tom padding their way. Thick, dark stripes coated his pelt. As she watched him approach, Abigail couldn't help but think that he _did_ look a bit like a bee. He was followed by a small brown and white molly, with a triangular-shaped face and unblinking green eyes. The tom stopped in front of them, and Abigail had to twist her neck to get a good look at his face.

"Hello, Bilbo!" The tom rumbled, sounding cheery, "I see you made it to the Gathering. And you brought along a friend!"

He leaned in, sniffing at her face. Abigail had to fight to keep herself from cowering. "Now, were you invited?" he mewed, affixing her with a stern gaze, "Or did you just tag along? We don't take well to uninvited guests here."

Abigail opened her mouth to reply, but the small molly next to Beebelly spoke up. "Oh, don't let him scare you," she mewed, green eyes glimmering, "He's just trying to get a rise out of you, he thinks it's really funny."

Beebelly snorted at this, but the molly ignored him.

"My name is Mantispaw. Are you two the new kittypets?" she asked, tilting her head slowly to the side.

"Uh, yeah," Abigail replied, "I'm Abigail, and he's Bilbo."

Mantispaw wrinkled her nose. "Weird names. But follow me! I'll take you to the other kittypets- there's a couple more of them that arrived earlier than you, and they've sort of all grouped together."

"Don't talk too fast, Mantispaw," Beebelly called as the three of them padded away, "You'll frighten them off."

They drew closer to the edge of the path, approaching an awkward-looking group of assembled cats. There was a small grey molly with a sneer on her face, as if she'd just scented something sour, and an older-looking brown tom sitting as still as a stone. Also in the group was a plump black and white patched molly, licking her chest fur in a futile attempt to look less out of place.

"Hello again, kittypets," Mantispaw mewed, "I've brought two more of you. Their names are… Their names are, um…"

"Abigail and Bilbo," Abigail supplied, "Nice to meet you all."

The black and white molly was the first to react, extending her neck to sniff at the two newcomers with a friendly expression in her amber eyes. "I'm Oreo," she mewed softly, "It's a pleasure."

The tom was next, giving them a gruff nod. "O'Malley," he said, and fixed his gaze back on the tree.

A beat of silence hung heavy in the air. Mantispaw coughed. " _Ah-HEM_. I believe it is _somebody's_ turn to introduce themselves," she meowed, staring not-so-subtly at the blue-grey molly. The unfriendly looking cat affixed Mantispaw with a glare that could kill, and hissed "Misty," through gritted teeth. Then she went back to scowling at the ground.

Mantispaw looked affronted, taking in a breath of air to deliver what would no doubt be the lecture of a lifetime, but she was interrupted by a sharp cry.

"Attention, cats of all Clans! This Gathering has begun!"


	4. Chapter 3

**-Chapter 3-**

Abigail turned her head to the branches, where a tall white molly with a few brown patches stood. Her amber eyes surveyed the crowd, her tail and head held high in a display of confidence. A very small dark brown tabby tom was sitting on the branch next to her, his white-tipped tail wrapped tightly around his paws. And still another cat lay draped on the third branch, a spotted grey tom. He cast a disinterested glance at the cats below, his tail drifting lazily in the breeze.

Mantispaw leaned over to the group of kittypets. "Those are the leaders- the grey tom lying down is Sleetstar, and he's the leader of MarshClan. The one in the middle is Briarstar, he's a SunkenClan cat- you can tell because he's really small. And the last one is-"

Before she could finish, a ripple spread through the seated cats.

"Why is Piperfoot up there?" a calico murmured.

"Where is Molluskstar?" another voice called.

"Is he sick?"

"Hurt?"

" _Dead?_ "

The murmuring grew louder, and the molly- Piperfoot, Abigail guessed, seemed to lose some of her resolve. Her tail lowered, swishing quietly against the branch. The other two leaders waited silently until the voices quieted, then Briarstar looked Piperfoot up and down.

"Yes, where is Molluskstar?" Briarstar asked, "I certainly hope nothing has happened to him." His voice was even-toned, betraying no emotion- only a quiet curiosity.

Piperfoot lowered her head. "Molluskstar is dead."

Another wave of shock echoed. Sleetstar bowed his head in turn. "I'm sorry to hear that. He walks in StarClan now."

Piperfoot nodded gratefully, and Briarstar flicked his tail. "Yes, he served DuneClan for many moons- his presence will be missed. Have you received your nine lives?" The tom's eyes glittered with something Abigail couldn't identify, "And, are we in any danger? I know Molluskstar wasn't a young cat, but he didn't seem to be in death's paws at the last Gathering."

Abigail tilted her head, and glanced over at the other kittypets, all of whom seemed just as confused. Nine lives? StarClan? What _was_ this?

"I'll explain later," Mantispaw whispered, before being shushed by a black tom.

"Plovercloud and I went to the Hollowtree three days ago, and I was granted my nine lives," Piperfoot meowed, voice heavy with grief, "My name is Piperstar now. You aren't in any danger. Molluskstar got sick very suddenly, and he was on his last life when it took him."

Silence hung heavy as the cats bowed their heads, almost as a single unit. Abigail was even more confused- these cats changed their names? Why? What was the difference between being called Piperfoot and Piperstar? Noticing Mantispaw give her a glare, she hurriedly bowed her head as well.

"Well, Piperstar, we can discuss our Clan's news later," Sleetstar called, "It's time to Claim the kittypets."

All attention turned to the group. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably.

"The deputies will examine them, and after a brief discussion amongst ourselves, it will be decided which cat goes to which Clan," Briarstar meowed, his voice loud for such a small body, "You can leave after the Gathering if you wish, if you decide that Clan life isn't for you. However, if you _do_ leave, be aware that you will never be welcome within our borders again."

Abigail thought she saw Oreo gulp.

Three mollies padded towards them, the crowd parting to allow them passage. One was an old lilac tortoiseshell with piercing yellow eyes, another a young, pretty white molly with a spot of black on her forehead. The last… Abigail's eyes brightened as she recognized Emberfang, and she waved her tail in greeting.

Emberfang, however, ignored her, and went straight to Misty. "How old are you?" she asked the blue-grey molly.

"Why do you care?" growled Misty in return.

Abigail wanted to continue listening in on the conversation, but was interrupted as the old lilac tortoiseshell stalked up to her. She was tall, with long, spindly legs, and broad flat paws. As she stalked around Abigail, she couldn't help but feel a little exposed- her narrowed eyes lingered on every facet of her body, from her nose to her tail-tip.

"I'm the DuneClan deputy, Clamfur," She meowed, voice low and gravelly, "What's your name, kit?"

"Abigail."

"Paws are a little small, but you could manage…" the tortoiseshell muttered, still padding in a circle around her, "Good pelt, big ears… thin, runner's build…"

The brown and white molly stood still, uncomfortable with the attention. Eventually, Clamfur nodded approvingly and moved on to Bilbo, who looked similarly uncomfortable. Abigail breathed a sigh of relief, then waved her tail again to Emberfang, who padded over to her.

"Hi, Emberfang!" she mewed brightly, holding her tail high, "Am I going to be in SunkenClan?"

The tortoiseshell snorted. "You? In SunkenClan? No. You've got the wrong body type." The molly said, "You're what, seven moons? Eight? I can already tell you'll grow too big, your pelt is too thin and bright, your paws don't seem flexible enough… You'd never make it in the forest."

Abigail's face fell. "But- I thought you wanted to recruit me! I thought that's why you came!"

"I came to recruit you _for the Clans_ , kit," Emberfang meowed, seeming one part annoyed and two parts amused, "SunkenClan cats are small and light, with long claws and thick, dark fur. We make our homes in the trees. We have to be able to move through the branches undetected. Your friend over there," she gestured to Misty, "Is the most SunkenClan out of all of you."

With that, Emberfang left, padding over to O'Malley and Oreo. She pouted. The forest had been so interesting, and now she wasn't even going to get a chance to see it? And she'd thought Emberfang was so cool, too.

The white molly came over next. Looking closer at her, she was somewhat stocky, with short legs and small ears. Her tail was short also, but it was thick and powerful, tapered to a point. "Hello there," she meowed, her voice melodic, "My name is Swanthroat. I'm the MarshClan deputy."

"Hello," Abigail meowed, "I'm Abigail. It's nice to meet you."

Swanthroat purred wordlessly. "Alright then, Abigail, I'm going to take a look at you really quick, okay? How old are you?"

Abigail thought for a moment. "Around eight moons, I think?" She'd never kept careful track of her age, but that number felt right.

Nodding, Swanthroat inspected her paws. "Oh, you have such lovely paws. Can you stick your claws out for me?"

She complied, her pelt warming from the flattery, and Swanthroat made a humming noise. "Alright. Good. Now let me see your tail…"

After what seemed like moons of inspecting, the three deputies retreated, padding back to the massive tree. Clamfur clambered up the bark to sit next to Piperstar, and Swanthroat scrabbled clumsily to Sleetstar. Emberfang, however, _flew_ up the trunk, like she was a squirrel instead of a cat. Abigail thought back to Emberfang's words- that SunkenClan cats made their homes in the trees. She looked right at home on the branch next to Briarstar.

A few moments of quiet discussion between leaders and deputies passed, and then the leaders congregated on the middle branch to discuss. There seemed to be a whispered argument beetween Sleetstar and Piperstar, both of their tails lashing, and Abigail strained her ears to pick up their words.

"Golden… belongs…." Piperstar hissed, her ears folded against her skull.

"No… too stocky..." Sleetstar hissed in reply.

Abigail huffed. There was no use trying to discern what they were saying, especially now that the seated cats had begun to quietly chat again. She turned to Bilbo. "Which one do you think you're gonna be in?"

He started, his round head whipping around to face her. "O-oh. Um, I dunno, really. I kinda hope MarshClan, um, c-cause… 'cause, um, the other two s-scare me a little."

Abigail nodded. Swanthroat had definitely been the most pleasant cat to talk to of the three of them. She had a way with words that she'd never seen before. Emberfang was intimidating for sure, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of Clamfur yet.

Up in the tree, the hissing cats seemed to have come to an agreement, and the three of them split into their respective branches again. Sleetstar raised his head.

"Clans, to your leaders!" he cried, his voice booming over the gathering place. Abigail watched a stream of glossy-pelted, stocky cats split off from their conversations to work their way over to under Sleetstar's branch. Briarstar's cats came from all over the wooden path, swarming like ants. They were all dark and small, their eyes glinting in the moonlight. And under Piperstar's branch came the long-legged and lean. Abigail noted that almost all of them were tabbies, with most patched with white.

"We will now be Claiming the kittypets," Briarstar announced, "Sleetstar will begin."

The spotted grey tom puffed out his chest. "Tonight, MarshClan will be welcoming two new cats into our midst," he meowed, "Oreo and O'Malley, come forwards."

Oreo had a surprised look on her soft face, as if she hadn't actually believed a Clan would Claim her. O'Malley was expressionless, but he gently placed his tail on Oreo's haunches, and guided her underneath the tree.

"You will receive your Clan names later, after we've told you of our code and expectations," Sleetstar continued, "Until then, join your new Clanmates under this branch."

The two kittypets padded cautiously up to the throng of cats, who greeted them with friendly nose touches and purrs. Abigail watched them be enveloped, their pelts blending in with those of the Clan cats.

Briarstar stepped up next, his dark brown fur shining silver in the moonlight. "SunkenClan will only be accepting one kittypet this season," he mewed, "And that cat is Misty. Come forwards."

Abigail's heart plummeted. Though Emberfang had told her that she wouldn't make it as a SunkenClan cat, a part of her still felt pulled to the twisted forest. She watched Misty stand, annoyance bubbling underneath her pelt.

The blue-grey molly didn't seem surprised in the slightest, and stalked forwards with a hard set in her eyes. As she disappeared into the crowd of SunkenClan cats, Briarstar dipped his head. "The same applies to you- you won't receive your Clan name until you've learned and accepted our code."

Piperstar stepped up last. "Though DuneClan has taken a blow with the death of Molluskstar, we hope to lessen it's impact as we welcome two new cats into or Clan," she yowled, "Bilbo and Abigail, will you please step forwards?"

Abigail shot Bilbo an encouraging look. Together, they padded towards the group of DuneClan cats.

 **((A/N- I forgot to put one of these on the last chapter, haha.**

 **CloudjumperKat- thank you so much for your reviews! I promise I'm not sick of you** **i live off of attention, give me all the attention.** **Most of the kittypets were named after cats my friends have- O'Malley and Misty are just taken straight from the source, Bilbo was inspired by a friend of mine who has a cat named Gimli, and Oreo is just a common housecat name, haha. There are some other previous kittypets already in the Clans that take inspiration from cats I've known as well. You'll see Bilbo and Abigail's names soon, but the others will have to wait a little while! :D))**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The Gathering proceeded without much fanfare. Bilbo and Abigail were welcomed into the DuneClan cats, all of whom smelled like salt and brine. Mantispaw pranced up to them, followed by a similar-looking cat with dark brown fur and amber eyes.

"Congratulations!" she mewed, butting her head into Abigail's shoulder, "I'm glad it was you guys and not that grey molly. I thought she was gonna claw my ears off."

The dark brown and white tom behind her twitched his whiskers, the same energy in his amber eyes that Mantispaw had in hers. "I'm Siltpaw," he said, "Mantispaw's brother. It'll be nice to have some other apprentices in the den, Gullpaw's so grumpy."

His whiskers twitched at the last statement, and Mantispaw purred in amusement, but Abigail and Bilbo exchanged a confused glance. "What's- what's an apprentice?" Bilbo asked. His tail was puffed up, clearly nervous in such a large group of cats.

"A warrior in training," Mantispaw replied, and then took a huge breath, clearly planning on saying more. Before she could, a ginger tom turned around and shushed her. Mantispaw waited until he turned around and then stuck her tongue out at him.

Abigail watched as the leaders announced how their Clans were faring. No one seemed to have any especially noteworthy news- all three leaders boasted about how well their Clans were faring, even though Abigail thought they were probably exaggerating things a bit. Sleetstar announced a new apprentice, Rainpaw, and he made sure to tell everyone that the smug-looking spotted grey tom was his son. Briarstar called the names of two new warriors, Squirrelstep and Mousecloud, while Piperstar only announced one- a meek-looking dark brown molly named Cricketpelt.

After all three leaders had spoken, Briarstar called the Gathering to an end. "What now?" Abigail asked, watching the cats say their goodbyes.

The ginger tom who shushed Mantispaw earlier looked over from where he was saying goodbye to a black SunkenClan cat, his pelt brushing with Beebelly's. "We head home now, back to our camp. I hope you're ready to run."

Abigail had just opened her mouth to reply when Piperstar called, "DuneClan, to me!"

The DuneClan cats surged forwards to meet their leader. They were faster than Abigail had ever seen, able to go from standing to sprinting in the blink of an eye. She began to run as well, worried that she'd be left behind, her legs not yet long enough nor developed enough to take her very fast. Abigail got the sense that they were deliberately travelling slower than usual so that she and Bilbo would be able to keep up.

The cats travelled on the path, taking care not to step on the ground. Abigail wondered why, but she was too out of breath to ask anyone. As she inhaled sharply, she could smell the distinct, earthy scent of SunkenClan. It seemed that the Gathering Place was in SunkenClan territory- perhaps the other Clans were only allowed to go if they stuck to the path.

Almost as soon as she thought it, the cats veered off the path, the dense canopy of the forest giving way to a blanket of stars. Abigail felt grains of sand stick to her paws as they ran through a small hollow. Bilbo was running beside her, huffing and puffing, clearly unused to this sort of exercise, and Abigail was starting to feel her muscles burn, as well. The other cats were pulling ahead, and she felt a sudden surge of fear- what if she was left behind, and could never find them again? She'd starve, or freeze!

Suddenly a grey tabby tom was trotting next to her. "I'll guide you to the camp if you get left behind, don't worry," he meowed, a glimmer of amusement in his yellow eyes. Abigail was breathing too heavily to thank him, but she nodded gratefully. Bilbo huffed out a thank you, even though Abigail thought he looked like he was about to collapse.

The rest of the group disappeared over a large hill of sand, and as Abigail looked around the territory, she suddenly understood while the Clan was called _DuneClan_. Sandy hills stretched as far as she could see to her left and to her right, with SunkenClan territory behind her and a huge stretch of water in front of her. She slowed to a trot, taking in the sight of what must be the ocean. The grey tabby watched her gape, a chuckle escaping from his maw.

"Impressive, isn't it?" he asked, his gaze shifting from the expanse of water to the huffing and puffing Bilbo. The young tom doubled over in the beachgrass, wheezing.

"Very… impressive…" he panted.

Abigail gave him a sympathetic look, her own lungs burning, and the grey tabby let out a _mrrow_ of amusement. "We're almost to the camp. Just a little further and you can rest."

Bilbo sucked in one last gulp of air and raised his head. "Okay,"

The grey tabby nodded decisively, and nudged them both forwards with his nose. "Just over this hill." he explained.

Abigail craned her neck. The hill was _massive_. Thick golden-green grass covered the sand, with a few dark-colored shrubs peeking out of the top of the it. Abigail took a deep breath and sprung at the the sand, her paws immediately slipping as it shifted under her weight. She scrambled up as best she could, using roots and patches of grass for purchase, her back paws kicking sand and silt into the air. It seemed like moons until she reached the top of the hill, and she sank to her belly, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Bilbo clawed himself up a few moments later, panting even more than he had been. "You kicked… sand…. in my eyes…" he gasped, flopping on his side.

"Sorry," Abigail replied, too exhausted to move. The grey tabby tom hopped lightly up next to them, not even seeming winded. He took one look at them and laughed, deep and resounding.

"All right, you got through the hard part," he chuckled, "Now's the easy part."

He gestured down with his tail, and Abigail followed it to the hollow beneath the hill. The hollow was filled with cats of all ages, all sharing the same lean, long-legged body type. Cats lying together, grooming, cats sharing prey, cats entering the camp from the side facing the ocean holding delicious-smelling things in their mouths. The camp itself was a round, sandy indent, dotted with bushes and grass. A large and twisted dead tree craned over the cats, a space dug out in between its roots. She recognized Piperstar's shape sitting on a massive fallen branch in the middle of the camp, poised like she was waiting for something.

Abigail all but slid down the side of the hollow, her legs feeling as limp as a dead mouse. She could hear Bilbo crashing behind her, and together they padded into the center of the camp.

Cats all around snapped their heads to look at the two of them, and the grey tabby nudged them forwards again. "Go see Piperstar," he meowed, "She'll want to speak with you before you're formally accepted." The tom then padded off to greet a pretty white molly.

Abigail glanced behind her at Bilbo. "Come on, then," she mewed, holding her head and tail high. She could feel the eyes on her back as she sauntered up to the branch Piperstar was on, Bilbo slinking behind her.

Piperstar took one look at them and hopped down, seeming amused. "The two of you look like you had fun," she meowed, "Follow me- I need to explain the Warrior Code to you both, before I can accept you into the Clan.

The molly padded under the massive dead tree, waving her tail as she disappeared into the den underneath. Abigail shot Bilbo a glance and padded in after her, the den underneath surprisingly roomy. Piperstar turned around to face them.

"Alright," she meowed, "Let me tell you both about how Clans work..."

Piperstar padded out of the den, Bilbo and Abigail trailing behind her. Abigail's head reeled with all of the information she'd just been given- especially the part about StarClan and the nine lives. The rest of the code seemed logical, intelligent, but… Abigail wasn't sure if she could bring herself to believe in cats that went to live in the stars when they died, even if the idea was nice.

The first light was beginning to shine over the horizon, the sun still not visible in the sky. Piperstar leaped to the highest point of the branch, her head held high. "Let all cats old enough to run the dunes gather beneath the Tallbranch for a Clan meeting!" she called, her voice loud and clear.

Cats filtered out of the bushes, blinking sleep out of their eyes, and gathered in a loose semicircle around the branch. Piperstar surveyed them.

"Tonight, as you know, was the Claiming of the Kittypets," she yowled, "I know these past few weeks have been difficult, with the death of Molluskstar, but I am pleased to inform you that tonight we are accepting two new, young cats into our Clan. I am confident that both of them will grow to be strong and capable Warriors."

She looked down at them, amber eyes earnest. "Bilbo, step forwards, please."

The golden-furred tom stepped forwards, his tail twitching nervously. Piperstar's eyes pierced into him. "Bilbo, do you promise to learn and follow the Warrior Code to the best of your ability, and stay loyal to DuneClan for the rest of your life?"

Bilbo only sounded the slightest bit uncertain when he replied, "I promise."

"Then by the power granted to me by StarClan, I strip you of your old name and grant you a new one. From now on, your name will be Lionpaw, after your golden coat," she meowed, "Redstripe! You a strong, dedicated, and capable warrior. I trust you will pass on your knowledge to Lionpaw."

The red tabby that had shushed them at the Gathering padded over, looking surprised. "I will teach him the best that I can, Piperstar," he said, then leaned forwards to touch noses with his new apprentice.

The two of them stepped off to the side, and Piperstar's voice rang out again. "Abigail, step forwards."

Abigail padded forwards, tail held high. "Abigail, do you promise to learn and follow the Warrior Code to the best of your ability, and stay loyal to DuneClan for the rest of your life?" Piperstar meowed.

Abigail hesitated, just for a moment. If she said yes, this was goodbye to her cozy life as a housecat forever- she would be stuck here, forever, in the cold and the rain and the dark. Then her eyes hardened. Her housefolk had _abandoned_ her. It didn't matter if she'd rather be with them- they clearly hadn't cared enough about her to make sure she'd stay alive. She looked Piperstar in the eye.

"I do," she replied, her voice unwavering.

"Then, by the power granted to me by StarClan, I strip you of your old name and grant you a new one. From this day forth, you will be known as Fawnpaw, for your brown and white fur," she cried, "And your mentor will be Monarchstorm!"

A tortoiseshell molly with a white chest and paws padded forwards, a devious look in her yellow eyes. "Monarchstorm, you are one of the best warriors this Clan has to offer," Piperstar said, "Pass your knowledge on to Fawnpaw, so that she may follow in your pawsteps."

Monarchstorm leaned forwards to touch noses with Fawnpaw. "Get ready, kittypet," she mewed, sounding more excited than Fawnpaw was, "You're about to work harder than you've ever worked in your _life!"_

The sun rose over the horizon as the cats of DuneClan called their new names.

 **((A/N: Sorry for the little break! School is keeping me very busy. I probably won't ever have time to update on Mondays, sadly. Anyways, this chapter is pretty long to make up for it! I also didn't include Piperstar telling them about the Warrior Code because it's essentially the same as the one we all know and love, and I didn't want to bore you all.**

 **I also have most of the plot figured out! I had a vague idea when I started, but everything is starting to come together. This is gonna be a looong ride, folks.**

 **CloudJumper Kat: Thank you again for your reviews, they make my day tbh! I visit Fire Island almost every year, and I always wonder how the feral cat population is getting on. One year I even gave all the cats I saw warrior names, though they were... not... very good names, haha. Gizmo is such a cute name for a cat!**

 **Bleaky: wow, thanks! I actually wrote up a family tree for DuneClan, 'cause I didn't want there to be any inbreeding, haha. Or really big age gaps. There are a bunch of pairings that you'll see later, and some gay cats also, 'cause if these cats are intelligent enough to form monogamous relationships for life then GOSH DARNIT they are smart enough to be gay.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Piperstar called the meeting to an end, and the cats dispersed. Some went and grabbed the delicious-smelling things- Fawnpaw could see they were birds now- off of a pile in the shade of the T`allbranch, some padded out of camp in a groups, and still others, mostly the ones that had been at the Gathering, went underneath the bushes. Her stomach growled, but right now there was only one thing that she wanted to do.

Mantispaw sprinted over immediately, Siltpaw trotting behind her. "Lionpaw! Fawnpaw!" she cried, "Those are such good names, I'm jealous!"

Siltpaw huffed in amusement. "Neither of those would suit you, furball. You look exactly like a mantis."

"Well I didn't _saaaay_ I wanted to change _my_ name!"

"You said you were jealous!"

Fawnpaw watched the siblings bicker tiredly. "Hey, I'm sorry to interrupt, but is there somewhere we can go to sleep? I've never been more exhausted in my life," she mewed, only half-joking. Mantispaw and Siltpaw looked up.

"Oh, yeah- sure! Follow me, I'll show you to the apprentice's den," Mantispaw mewed, bouncing towards a bush that looked, to Fawnpaw, exactly like all of the other bushes. As they got closer she could scent Mantispaw and Siltpaw all over it, as well as a third cat-scent she couldn't identify. She padded under the bush, and saw three distinct bundles of moss and beachgrass.

"You guys don't have nests yet- you'll probably collect the materials tomorrow- but you can sleep on the sand until then! It's pretty soft, though, so don't worry." Mantispaw was saying, but Fawnpaw barely heard her. She padded over between two of the nests and curled up. She heard Lionpaw murmur a quiet thanks before she felt his pelt brush lightly against hers.

Even though she was exhausted, Fawnpaw tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Despite what Mantispaw had said, the sand _wasn't_ soft, and someone was snoring so loudly that she couldn't believe that the rest of the apprentices were sleeping through it. She found herself longing for the cushions and warm laps of her housefolk, the warmth of indoors. Eventually she drifted into a fitful sleep.

...Only to immediately be woken up by a paw prodding into her side. She pretended as though she hadn't felt it, curling farther into a ball, but the paw came back with a vengeance, this time prodding her with sharp claws. She yelped.

"Keep it down, birdbrain," Mantispaw mumbled.

Fawnpaw turned her head to see a large grey and white cat prodding her side, yellow eyes narrowed into slits. "Get up, kittypet," he hissed, "You're on a dusk patrol."

She just blinked blankly, still a bit out of it. The grey and white tom sighed. "Just look for me when you get out of the den. And bring along the other one."

Fawnpaw watched him leave with a scowl on her face. _How rude!_ Poking Lionpaw with her nose, she shook the sand out of her pelt. Every muscle screamed in protest, and she gasped at the sudden wave of pain. Lionpaw seemed to have the same issue as he climbed out of the little hollow his body had made as he slept, gritting his teeth and letting out a low hiss.

"Some grumpy tom says we're on the dusk patrol," Fawnpaw explained, whispering so as not to wake up Mantispaw and Siltpaw, "We have to go find him outside, he wouldn't wait for me to get up."

Lionpaw blinked blearily, and Fawnpaw felt a pang of sympathy. "Didn't sleep well either?" she asked, slinking out from under the bush.

The tom licked his lips. "N-no, the sand got all in my pelt. A-and I think Mantispaw was snoring."

Fawnpaw hopped triumphantly, and immediately regretted it as her muscles creaked and groaned. "I thought I was the only one who noticed!"

The two former kittypets looked around camp, which was bustling with activity. She noticed the grey tom that had lead them to the camp, sitting in the last patch of sunlight and grooming the white molly he'd ran off to greet as soon as they'd returned. Other cats lazed around as well- Beebelly was sitting with a golden molly, watching two plump cream kittens tumble over each other, and Cricketpelt was sharing a delicious-smelling bird with a _huge_ blue-grey molly, who seemed to be dominating the conversation.

"Over here!" Fawnpaw recognized the distinct voice of her mentor Monarchstorm. She trotted over to the edge of camp, where she was sitting with three other cats. Lionpaw's mentor, Redstripe, was next to her, and the two were playfully tussling in the sand. The grumpy grey and white tom from earlier was sitting still as a statue beside a brown and white tom with green eyes.

"It's about time you two showed your fuzzy hides!" Monarchstorm growled, hopping off of where she had Redstripe pinned, "Your first day here, and you're already lazing about. Unacceptable."

Redstripe licked the sand off of his shoulder. "You should be ashamed of yourselves," he said seriously, "We accept you into our Clan, and this is how you treat us."

Lionpaw looked stricken, but Fawnpaw glanced back and forth between them with narrowed eyes. "...you're messing with us," she mewed uncertainly.

Monarchstorm looked like she was going to keep up the act, but Redstripe nudged her side. "It was her idea," he mewed, having the decency to look at least somewhat apologetic, "I told her to mess with her own apprentice on her own time, but no, she had to drag me and Lionpaw into it, too."

The grey and white tom let out a growl. "Can we stop messing around and go, please?"

"Patience, Gullpaw," the tom next to him said, his tail wrapped around his paws.

"Lionpaw, Fawnpaw, have you met Gullpaw and Mousefang yet?" Monarchstorm asked,

Lionpaw shook his head. Fawnpaw stuck her nose in the air. "Gullpaw and I have been acquainted," she mewed, peering at the tom out of the corner of her eye, "But I don't think I've met Mousefang."

The brown and white tom dipped his head in greeting. Gullpaw scowled and looked away. There was something very familiar about Mousefang, although Fawnpaw couldn't quite place what it was.

Redstripe got to his paws and stretched. "Let's get going- we're going to show you around the territory, and then see if we can find any toads or mice to catch."

Fawnpaw almost groaned, her muscles stiff and sore, but she held her tongue. She was a Clan cat now, and that meant she had to be tough. The thought of a comfortable cushion fleeted into her mind, but she pushed it away, resolutely ignoring the stiffness in her back and the soreness in her legs.

The cats set off, Fawnpaw and Lionpaw once again struggling to walk on the slippery sand. The other cats moved across the ground with as much ease as the pipers that scuttled back and forth from the ocean, and Fawnpaw found herself gripped with jealousy- especially when Gullpaw sent her back a smug look. She felt her tail bristling and willed it to flatten, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her annoyed.

Monarchstorm and Redstripe led the patrol over a grass-covered sandy hill and down into a small hollow. "This is the training hollow," Monarchstorm meowed, "Also known as where you two are gonna get your tails _whipped_ into shape."

Fawnpaw grimaced at her tone- Monarchstorm seemed entirely too excited to "whip her tail into shape." Lionpaw looked nervous as well, but Redstripe sent him a reassuring look.

After they'd sniffed around a little bit, the patrol climbed up another hill. Fawnpaw's eyes brightened as she recognized the twisted trees of SunkenClan territory. "This is the Swale," Redstripe mewed, sweeping his tail towards a low, grassy stretch of land, "It's good for catching prey, and it's _ours_."

Monarchstorm nodded. "Don't let those SunkenClan fox-hearts convince you otherwise- the Swale's before the treeline, and that means it belongs to us."

Fawnpaw and Lionpaw exchanged a glance, taken aback by Monarchstorm's venomous tone. Mousefang, who had been quiet so far, let out a soft chuckle. "Redstripe, Monarchstorm, you're making it sound like we're in the middle of a war," he meowed, giving both of them an admonishing glance, "While it's true we often squabble with SunkenClan over the Swale, it's not contested often."

The tortoiseshell scoffed at his dismissive tone, shaking her head. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the territory."

Fawnpaw's paws went numb as Monarchstorm and Redstripe led them through a section near the SunkenClan border called the Shrublands, which was filled with small bushes and trees, as well as tantalizing scents. Then they ran across to the open sand, which had the stale scents of all sorts of birds. "The birds are only here in the daylight," Mousefang explained, "You might go out hunting tomorrow and see some."

The last thing the warriors showed them was all the way across the beach- a strange line of flat, cylindrical stones leading well into the ocean. "These are the Flatstones," Redstripe explained, "They're slippery and dangerous, so don't go on them unless you've got a warrior with you. When the ocean is calm," he looked over his shoulder at the crashing waves, "Which it's not, right now, we go out on them to fish."

The brown and white molly bristled. "What?!" she hissed, thrashing her tail from side to side. The patrol looked back at her.

"What's- what's wrong, Fawnpaw?" Lionpaw asked, tilting his head to the side.

"What's wrong- we have to get wet?!" the molly shrieked, "On _purpose_?"

She glanced around at the other cats, not understanding how they were not as horrified as she was. After a few moments of awkward silence, Gullpaw snorted. Her mentor made a face. "Fawnpaw, you're a Clan cat now, and Clan cats are not afraid of a little water," she said, her voice uncharacteristically serious, "As this is, as far as I can tell, your only option, I recommend _getting used to it_."

Fawnpaw's pelt prickled uncomfortably, and after a few tense moments she looked away. The patrol moved on. As she brought up the rear, Redstripe trotted next to her and nudged her side. "Just be glad MarshClan didn't pick you," he mewed, whiskers twitching, "they have to swim to get to their camp, I've heard!"

Her jaw dropped, but he bounded up to the front of the patrol before she could ask if he was kidding or not. Lionpaw fell back in step with her. A few moments of silence passed, Fawnpaw glaring at the back of Gullpaw's head.

"I don't like Gullpaw," she growled under her breath, "I think he's stuck-up, and hates us 'cause we used to be kittypets."

Lionpaw looked uncomfortable. "Well, I mean… he could just- he might just not like change, or something…"

Fawnpaw gave him a look. He coughed.

"We're heading back to camp now," Monarchstorm called, "Lionpaw, Fawnpaw, make sure you take some prey to the elders before you take any for yourselves. Be prepared to hunt tomorrow!"

After another long, slippery trek to the camp, the two apprentices all but collapsed in the middle of everything. Gullpaw prodded them with his paws again.

"Get up," he growled, "You have to take prey to the elders."

Fawnpaw groaned dramatically. "Give us a _break_ , why don't you? I'm not used to walking on the sand and I feel like my paws are going to fall off."

"I just- um, I just need to c-catch my breath…" Lionpaw mewed, sitting up on wobbly legs.

Gullpaw curled his lip. "You're never going to get any stronger if you keep lazing around like you're still a spoiled twoleg pet," he spat, "Go take the prey to the elders, _now_."

He turned and stalked towards the apprentice's den, lashing his tail. Fawnpaw mimicked his words in a high-pitched, mocking tone.

"Go take the prey to the elders, _now,_ " she whined, feeling her stomach rumble sadly as she nosed through the pile and selected a bird she couldn't identify, "C'mon Lionpaw, let's go."

"O-oh. Oh! Right!" Lionpaw stammered, grabbing what looked like a mouse but rounder and limping after her.

Fawnpaw had to ask around a bit to find out where the elder's den was- the blue-grey molly she'd seen sharing prey with Cricketpelt laughed in her face, introduced herself as Whalefur, and pointed them towards a short and twisted pine tree at the edge of camp. Fawnpaw and Lionpaw trekked over there, every step feeling like a losing battle.

Eventually they pushed their way under the tree to see three elderly cats, as well as two apprentices.

"You're back!" Mantispaw squeaked, dropping whatever she was holding between her paws and starting to rush over to them. The grey-brown tabby tom she was with gave her a glare, though, so she stayed put.

Siltpaw looked over at them from where he was grooming a grey tortoiseshell. "How was your first day?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"Bad," Fawnpaw replied through a mouthful of feathers. She dropped the bird. "We were supposed to bring prey to you guys? So, I brought this bird… thing, and Lionpaw brought a mouse, I think."

A cream-colored tom with his back to them coughed a laugh. "I'm the oldest cat here, and even I can smell that those are a piper and a vole," he lisped, turning to face them. Fawnpaw recoiled slightly. He was the _weirdest looking_ cat she'd ever seen.

His face was narrow and long, and a dark brown color, like his legs and tail. One of his very big ears was crumpled, flopping into his face, while the other stood tall. When he opened his mouth to laugh, Fawnpaw saw that he had almost no teeth, and when he peered at her with brilliant blue eyes, she saw that they were crossed. The tom, watching her go over his looks with a somewhat horrified expression, laughed again.

"Most cats have that look to 'em when they first see me," he said, his words slurred together, "M' name's Palethroat. The other two are Hollypelt and Shellfoot."

The grey-brown tabby and the tortoiseshell raised their heads in that order, nodding greetings to the new apprentices. Palethroat eyed the bird hungrily. "Did you bring food for us?" he asked, drool leaking out of his mouth. Fawnpaw nodded mutely, picking the bird up and dropping it in front of him, while Lionpaw deposited the vole in-between the other two. Fawnpaw, catching the scent, looked forlornly at her empty stomach, which rumbled right on cue.

"Have you two eaten yet?" Shellfoot asked, seeming concerned. Lionpaw shook his head.

Palethroat looked up. "Go get yourselves some prey and then come back in here. I'll tell you all a little story for your troubles."

Mantispaw let out an excited squeal, only to be quickly hushed by Hollypelt. Lionpaw and Fawnpaw exchanged a glance, then padded out of the den towards the prey heap. Both were too tired to speak, simply padding alongside one another. Fawnpaw selected a large bird off of the pile, Lionpaw took a small mouse, and the two of them headed back to the elder's den.

When they had gotten settled, Palethroat looked up. "Now, you two don't know any of our stories. Anything in particular you want to know about?" he asked, crossing his front paws.

Fawnpaw shook her head, but Lionpaw looked up meekly. "Um… I feel kinda stupid asking this, but, um… what _is_ a lion?" he asked, curling his tail around his haunches. Fawnpaw blinked- she hadn't even realized that a lion was an actual thing. A lot of the cats seemed to have weird names, if she was being honest- what was a _monarch_ , anyway?

Palethroat chuckled. "Of course, you wouldn't know. The lion is very important to our Clan- I'll tell you why…."

 **((A/N: another chapter that took for-freakin'-ever! I dunno why this one took me so long, but it did. Next time is storytime with Palethroat! can any of you guys guess what the -throat suffix means? :v**

 **The story was supposed to be included in this chapter at first, but after this one started edging on 2000 words i cut it out haha.**

 **Cloudjumper Kat: Thanks! Monarchstorm is nammed after the Monarch butterfly, just in case anyone didn't know, haha! Monarchstorm herself is a fun character to write, she's super tough.**

 **It is sad that there are so many abandoned cats :( Both for the environment and for the cats themselves. Of course, I'm ignoring the environmental impact for this story, 'cause the warriors universe has always sorta ignored it, but real life cat colonies are almost always bad!**

 **Also: Feral chicken stories? Heck yes. Pls imagine warriors but with feral chickens. Like, same kinda names and everything, except -fur would be -feather lmao))**


	7. Palethroat's Story- Interlude

Story Chapter

"Many, many moons ago, there were no cats here. The other animals lived in chaos, fighting for resources without a code. After a very, very long time, the first twolegs arrived, bringing with them the first cats. However, these cats were soft, and while they thrived in greenleaf, the storms and harsh cold of leaf-bare killed them all.

Year after year, kittypets were abandoned, left by their twoleg owners at greenleaf's end to die in the coming snow. More and more cats died in the forests, on the beaches, in the marsh, and their spirits hovered, angry and in pain. If only there had been a group of cats, a unity to keep them alive!

Finally, three kittypets were left behind. Their names have been lost to time, but we will call them Sunken, small and fierce, Marsh, sleek and courageous, and Dune- the swift as the ocean breeze. They received a an omen from cats long dead, cats who could no longer stand to see another generation suffer as they had. A glowing firefly- the last of the season- lead them deep into the Sunken Forest, along the twoleg path. It is said that the skies opened at the Great Holly, our Gathering Place, and three glowing spirits descended.

Tiger was a cat the color of flame, bigger than any in the forest, with sharp stripes darker than the night sky. He had a very unique gift among us cats- he knew how to navigate the waters of the salt marshes. Courageous and strong, he descended to Marsh.

Leopard was the smallest of the three, but she was still much larger than any living cat, with a golden pelt and dark, rose-shaped spots. She lived in the trees, lithe and graceful, and knew how to travel through the branches without a sound. She descended to Sunken.

Finally, Lion descended- his fur was as bright as the sun, with eyes made of fire, and he had a golden mane around his head. The other Clans will deny this, but he was the most noble, the strongest of the three. He knew the secrets to running on the sand and by the sea, how to move without slipping or falling into the ocean. He descended to Dune.

The three spirit cats explained, in their booming voices, that they were here to guide the kittypets, so that they could be leaders to the next generation of cats left behind.

Sunken was content to stay in the twisted trees of the forest, but Marsh and Dune felt their paws being pulled elsewhere. Dune left to the sand dunes and the ocean, and Marsh to the long grasses and pools of the salt marsh. Together with their guides, they learned to hunt, to fight, to _lead_. All three survived leaf-bare. When the next greenleaf came, and the abandoned kittypets mulled about in confusion, they were there, with new names. Dunestar, for the fleetfooted and adaptable. Sunkenstar, for the cats that thrive in the trees. And Marshstar, for the experimental and courageous.

As the new leaders accepted the kittypets, the three great cats spoke. "We can no longer guide you," they said, "But we will grant you some of our power, so that you may keep your Clans safe for nine lifetimes. And when you die for the final time, you will join us in the stars"

Each great cat touched their nose to the leaders, and nine lives worth of energy flowed through them. And with that, the three gods faded into starlight."

Palethroat dipped his head, having finished his story. Lionpaw and Fawnpaw were staring at him, open-mouthed.

"I'm named after a _god?"_ Lionpaw gasped.

"How much of that is true?" Fawnpaw demanded, "How can three giant cats give leaders nine lives? How long ago was this? How did they turn into stars? How did-"

Palethroat chuckled. "Next time you come to clean ticks off of us, I'll answer your questions. For now, you know how the Clans were founded, and what a Lion is, which is more than you asked me for."

Fawnpaw huffed, annoyed. Shellfoot raised her head. "You can all go now. Get some rest! I'm sure you need it."

As soon as it was pointed out, Fawnpaw let out a massive yawn. Siltpaw made his way over and nudged her shoulder. "Come on. We've got a surprise for you in the apprentice's den."

Lionpaw tilted his head curiously, but Fawnpaw just trudged quietly under the bush. She blinked in surprise as she saw two freshly-made nests, tucked next to Mantispaw's and Siltpaw's.

"Ta-daaaa~!" Mantispaw sang, bouncing in front of them, "Siltpaw and I made you guys nests! Now you don't have to sleep on the sand."

Fawnpaw was touched. "...Thank you," she mewed, quietly, gently brushing her cheek along Mantispaw's shoulder, "That was really nice of you guys."

Mantispaw purred. Siltpaw nudged Lionpaw with his nose. "Hey, it's no problem. Clanmates look out for each other." he mewed, padding over to his own nest. The other three apprentices followed, each settling into their own nest of feathers and beachgrass. Fawnpaw curled up, and settled quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 **A/N: Sorry for the wait! I've been swamped with work lately. But I'm back in business now! :D**

 **Cloudjumper Kat: You got it! The -throat suffix has to do with eloquence or storytelling. Swanthroat of MarshClan is well-spoken, while Palethroat is a great story teller. And yes, Gullpaw is a jerk x3.))**


	8. Chapter 6

Fawnpaw padded into camp after Monarchstorm, a plover clasped in her jaws. It had been a moon since she and Lionpaw had been accepted into the Clan, and Fawnpaw was fitting in nicely- by now, she knew everyone's names, what the different types of prey were called and how to catch some of them, the best techniques for running on the sand, and how to get ticks off of the elders without getting her ears clawed off, though she still couldn't manage to make Gullpaw like her. She also proved to be better at hunting than Lionpaw, who padded into camp after her, dejectedly holding a tern that she had caught.

Her mentor dropped her prey on the heap and made a beeline for a pretty silver tabby named Waveflower. The brown and white molly purred at the sight, but felt her ears droop as Lionpaw sadly dropped the tern. Setting her catch down on the pile, Fawnpaw gently brushed his side with her tail. "Don't feel bad," she mewed, giving him a comforting lick on the shoulder, "Not everyone can be an amazing hunter like me."

Lionpaw snorted. "Comforting."

"I'm practically the best hunter in the Clan at this rate, and you know it!"

Lionpaw's whiskers twitched. The two of them had developed quite the camaraderie over the past moon. Their skill sets tended to balance each other out- Fawnpaw was lithe and fast, able to chase down birds and rodents on the dunes, whereas Lionpaw's gentle patience and larger build gave him an advantage in fishing and battle training. The golden tom had really started to come into his own, stuttering less and standing up for himself more.

"Nice catch, you two!" The grey tabby that had guided them to camp a moon ago called. Fawnpaw now knew his name was Ripplepelt, and he was _somehow_ the ill-tempered Gullpaw's father. Fawnpaw raised her tail in greeting as he padded over.

"Mind if I snag the tern? Myrtlewhisker mentioned wanting one the other day." he asked.

"Help yourself!" Fawnpaw purred, "Has Grasstail eaten yet? I was thinking of bringing the plover to her." Grasstail was a sweet young molly who had taken a liking to her- Fawnpaw often found herself entertaining her two rambunctious kits while talking with the golden queen.

"Not as far as I know," Ripplepelt replied, "I think she's on a walk with Frostnose right now, but I'm sure Saltkit and Foamkit would appreciate it. Make sure they eat it, though, and don't just play with the feathers."

Fawnpaw nodded decisively. "Yes, sir!" she said.

Lionpaw flicked her side with his tail before heading towards the apprentice's den. "If Redstripe asks for me, tell him I'm taking a nap. I barely slept at all last night," he yawned. Fawnpaw nodded in reply and set off towards the nursery.

She pushed her way under the juniper bush that the queens and kits slept under, hit immediately with a milky scent. The molly dropped the plover. "Saltkit, Foamkit, I have a bird for you!" she called, looking around for Grasstail's kits.

"SunkenClan invader!" a high-pitched voice cried, and a round cream kitten jumped down at her from the branches above. Another kit barrelled into her from the side, and Fawnpaw let herself be bowled over, an overdramatic yowl escaping from her maw.

"Curses! You have defeated and captured me, the villainous SunkenClan warrior," she gasped, the weight of two kittens settling on her side, "I suppose I must give up my treasured plover, so that I may return to my rightful home."

The cream kitten giggled, and the white one purred in victory. "Yes! Give us your plover and we might let you go," she meowed, sticking her nose in Fawnpaw's face.

"Alright you lumps, get off of me," the apprentice meowed, standing up. The cream kitten squealed, sliding off of her flank and onto the ground. "Did you see any seals today?" she asked, eyes wide and excited.

Fawnpaw shook her head. "Sorry Foamkit, no seals today. I'm not even sure what a seal is, actually."

The white kit tilted her head. "Mother- I mean, Grasstail- says that they're like dogs, but, um… with a fish body, and no ears."

Fawnpaw wrinkled her nose, trying to picture such a creature. "I'm sure I'll know it when I see it," she conceded, nudging the plover towards them, "And I'll tell you all about it when I do. Now eat up- make sure to save some for your mother."

The two kits nodded, and began tearing into the plover with ferocity. Fawnpaw settled down, content to watch them, before Beebelly poked his head into the den.

"Hey Fawnpaw, Piperstar's announcing who's going to the Gathering tonight," he meowed, his voice light with amusement as it almost always was, "You should come out, just in case you get picked!"

The molly blinked. "How many cats usually go?" she asked, getting to her paws.

"Seven to ten, usually," he replied, "I bet you have a pretty good chance, though."

Fawnpaw pushed her way out of the den, watching as Piperstar skillfully leaped to the top of the Tallbranch and called for the meeting. She caught a glimpse of Lionpaw blearily padding out of the apprentice's den.

"The Gathering is tonight," Piperstar yowled, "Aside from Plovercloud, Clamfur, and I, the cats attending will be Waveflower, Whalefur, Monarchstorm, Redstripe, Fawnpaw, and Lionpaw! Chosen cats- get some rest before tonight. This meeting is over!"

Fawnpaw bounced excitedly. Her first Gathering as a real Clan cat! She wondered if she'd see Oreo and O'Malley, or even Misty, and what their new names would be. She padded over to Lionpaw, who had been joined by Mantispaw and Siltpaw. Mantispaw was talking a mile a minute.

"I wish I were going too, so I could show you what to do- you gotta make sure not to tell anyone too much about what's going on here- no giving away secrets!" she meowed urgently, "But make as many friends as you can! Allies in other Clans are always good!"

Siltpaw nodded. "Cherryclaw says that the other Clans aren't always our enemies, and that in case there's ever, like… a bad storm, or a vicious animal running loose, we should have friends in them," he mewed, a serious look in his eyes, "But don't get too cozy, because if you want to be _more_ than friends, you're breaking the code."

"Slow down there, Siltpaw," Fawnpaw chuckled, whiskers twitching, "I've barely met cats from the other Clans, I'm not going to up and run away with one of them because their pelt looked nice in the moonlight."

The moon rose in the sky, and the cats chosen to attend the Gathering stood before the Twoleg Path leading into the forest. Piperstar raised her tail, and the DuneClan patrol surged forwards. Fawnpaw found that she had very little trouble keeping up with them this time. The moon she'd spent in the Clan had hardened her muscles, and while she did sometimes miss the softness of her kittypet paws, being able to run for so long was well worth the trade-off. As the group descended deeper into the forest, Fawnpaw surprisingly found herself feeling trapped, the canopy of trees above her head blocking the familiar starlight.

They arrived at the Great Holly the same time as MarshClan, the SunkenClan cats already milling about. Fawnpaw was surprised at how _different_ they all smelled, even though it had only been a moon since she'd last seen the other Clans. The DuneClan cats dispersed- Fawnpaw spotted Whalefur trotting over to a plump cream molly, and Redstripe butting heads with a pale grey tom. She nudged Lionpaw with her nose. "Let's see if we can find the other kittypets- I hope they're doing well!" she meowed. Lionpaw nodded, but Monarchstorm stopped them before they could leave.

"Now, remember," she said, "No giving out Clan secrets, and don't get _too_ friendly- you may have to meet these cats one day on the battlefield. As long as you remember those things, you should be fine. Now go!" she waved her tail, "Mingle. Have a good time."

Fawnpaw nodded, butting her head into her mentor's shoulder before racing off, Lionpaw behind her. She spotted Misty in the group of SunkenClan cats, but the ill-tempered molly barely gave her a sneer before going back to talking with a small black apprentice. Fawnpaw scowled.

"Abigail! Bilbo!" she heard, and she turned her head to see Oreo and O'Malley padding her way. Both cats looked sleek and healthy, although Oreo had definitely slimmed down a bit. Fawnpaw bounded over to them, Lionpaw on her heels.

"Oreo, O'Malley!" she purred, touching noses with both cats, "Or, rather- what are your names now?"

"I'm Ternpaw," Oreo mewed softly, "And he's Toadpaw now. What about you two?"

Fawnpaw puffed out her chest. "My name is Fawnpaw, and he's Lionpaw," she boasted, bumping her hip to Lionpaw's. Ternpaw's eyes glittered.

"Good names, they suit you!" she mewed, twitching her whiskers in amusement, "Although, the Tiger is better than the Lion, so I've heard."

Lionpaw looked a little insulted, but he purred good-naturedly anyway. Fawnpaw spoke up again. "How is MarshClan? I know we're not supposed to give away 'Clan secrets,' or whatever, but… do you _really_ have to swim in order to get to your camp?"

"MarshClan is a very nice place- the territory is beautiful, and all the cats are very nice. Learning to like the water took some getting used to, though! As for the swimming… That's for us to know, and you to find out," Ternpaw teased, flicking her tail as she sat down. Toadpaw huffed in agreement. Fawnpaw thought she could see a glimmer of mirth in his eyes, but perhaps she was mistaken. "Have you seen Misty anywhere? I wanted to ask her how SunkenClan life was." Ternpaw continued.

Lionpaw shook his head. "We saw her, but she didn't seem interested in talking to us. Maybe, um, the leaders will share a bit, when they speak?"

"Maybe," the black and white molly mused, "Anyway, you two are looking well. Are you fitting in with DuneClan?"

Fawnpaw nodded, sitting as well. "It took some adjustment, but I'm liking it so far. Not sure how much I'll like it when leaf-bare rolls around, though." Already, some of the forest leaves were turning golden and peeling off of the branches, the breeze growing colder.

A cry came from the middle branch. "Let the Gathering begin!" Briarstar yowled.

The kittypets-turned-apprentices all turned their attention to the Great Holly. The dark brown tabby sat perched like a bird on the middle branch, the movement seeming as natural as breathing. "I will start," he called, "SunkenClan celebrates the full acceptance of a new apprentice- Misty has taken on the name of Mistpaw, and has begun training with Shadewing. I trust she will make a fine Warrior."

Cats cheered for the new apprentice. "Mistpaw! Mistpaw!"

"Not a very original name," Fawnpaw commented drily. Ternpaw snorted.

Briarstar waited for the cheers to calm down before he spoke again. "Brackenheart has also given birth to three healthy kits- SunkenClan welcomes Ratkit, Flickerkit, and Beetlekit, and hopes that they all grow into healthy warriors."

Congratulations were called out- Fawnpaw found herself cheering too, excited for the new kits. Briarstar dipped his head. "That is all from SunkenClan."

Piperstar stepped up next. "The prey is running well on the dunes, even with Leaf-fall approaching. I am happy to report that the two kittypets we accepted last moon have also been granted Clan names," she yowled, "Fawnpaw and Lionpaw join us here tonight, as full members of DuneClan."

Fawnpaw preened as the cats called her new name, nudging Lionpaw when he ducked his head in embarrassment. After the cheers died down, Piperstar yowled, "That is all DuneClan has to report," and stepped back.

Sleetstar spoke last, looking more haggard than he had the last time Fawnpaw had seen him. "MarshClan is doing well," he spoke, "We have two new apprentices as well- the kittypets Oreo and O'Malley have been granted the names Ternpaw and Toadpaw, and are being trained by Wavestripe and Reedwhisker. We are sure that, in time, they will make fine warriors."

There was a break in his speech as the gathered cats yowled the kittypet's new names. Ternpaw licked her chest fur, embarrassed by the attention, while Toadpaw glanced impassively around, his flicking tail the only indication of emotion. As the cheers died down, Sleetstar once again stepped up.

"However, in more pressing news- an apprentice, my son, has recently gone missing. His scent trail disappeared in the middle of our territory, and even our best trackers have been unable to locate him," he meowed. Gasps of sympathy echoed through the seated cats. "Until he is found, I respectfully ask all Clans to keep an eye out for him- his name is Rainpaw, and he's a spotted grey tabby, with a white underbelly."

Briarstar flicked his tail. "Are you sure he didn't crack under the pressure?" he asked evenly, "Being the leader's son… he must have high expectations on his shoulders. Or maybe he took a walk near the bog? Cats die every year from falling in. If wasn't aware of the danger…" he trailed off.

Sleetstar bristled. "All MarshClan cats are warned away from the bog from the time their eyes open," he spat, "Rainpaw would not have been so foolish as to just walk into it."

"Accidents happen," the small brown tabby meowed.

The spotted grey tom pulled his lips back into a snarl. "If you think that _my son_ would have been so brainless as to just _wander_ into the bog, you're more clam-brained than I thought. Perhaps _your_ apprentices are stupid enough to drown themselves, but _mine_ certainly are _not_."

Fawnpaw watched Ternpaw flinch at her leader's harsh words, and saw several SunkenClan cats bristle. Briarstar's eyes narrowed. "Careful, Sleetstar," he growled, his voice still maddeningly calm. Sleetstar unsheathed his claws and opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a cry from the crowd.

"The moon!" a black molly cried. Fawnpaw glanced up- through the trees, she could see dark clouds rolling in to cover it, and heard gasps echo through the seated cats as a few drops of rain fell from the sky.

Piperstar, who had been quiet throughout their argument, stood up. "StarClan is displeased with us," she called, "The Gathering is a time for peace. Because of this fighting, they've called it to an end early. This Gathering is over." She leaped down to the ground.

Briarstar dipped his head before scurrying down the tree like a squirrel. Sleetstar glared in his direction, then turned to the seated cats. "If any of you have any information about Rainpaw," he yowled, "Please let a MarshClan cat know." He then scrabbled down rather clumsily.

As cats hurriedly meowed their goodbyes, Ternpaw looked to the DuneClan apprentices sadly. "He's really upset," she mewed softly, "Rainpaw was his only kit to survive past the first night, and since his mate died as well..."

Lionpaw looked stricken. Fawnpaw touched her nose to Ternpaw's. "I'll find a way to tell you if I find anything out about him," she promised, turning to join the group of DuneClan cats, "Until then- good luck as an apprentice!"

"Same to you!" Ternpaw called, bounding towards her Clan. The apprentices met up with the rest of the DuneClan cats, falling into step beside Monarchstorm. The tortoiseshell was walking with Waveflower, Redstripe and Whalefur trailing behind them, with Piperstar, Clamfur, and Plovernose taking the lead.

Fawnpaw bounced up to her mentor. "What do you think happened to Rainpaw?" she asked. Monarchstorm shrugged.

"Anything could've happened, honestly. He could've gotten killed by a fox, or a swan- they're _vicious_ \- or he could've drowned in the bog or the marshes. The way that Sleetstar described it, though, makes me think that he ran away. If he'd died somehow, his scent trail would probably still be there, and lead to his body."

Fawnpaw made a face, thinking how smug and self-assured Rainpaw had seemed when she'd seen him at the last Gathering. While she supposed there were things that she didn't know about going on in his life… she couldn't help feeling like the cat she'd seen a moon ago would not have run away,

Almost imperceptibly, she narrowed her eyes. Something _weird_ was going on, and she was going to find out what.

 **((A/N: WOO! I wrote this super fast because I'm PUMPED! we're getting into the plot now!**

 **Cloudjumper Kat: I'm glad you like Mantispaw! I like her too. Palethroat was never much of a fighter or a hunter- he was pretty old when he came to the Clans, and with his missing teeth, crossed eyes, and crumpled ears, he excelled at oral history and passing down stories rather than typical warrior duties.**

 **But thank you! I guess people just aren't fond of my style, or the premise, or whatever. I really appreciate that you keep leaving reviews, and that you like it so much! :D))**


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Monaarchstooooorm,"

"Wha…?"

"Monarchstorm, wake up."

Fawnpaw watched from the entrance of the warrior's den as the tortoiseshell rolled over, blinking bleary yellow eyes in her direction. Her mentor hissed as the sunlight shone into her eyes. "Move your head a paw-length to the right." she growled, shutting them tightly.

She obliged, her head blotting out the sun, and Monarchstorm opened her eyes a crack. "Whatever it is you want, can't it wait 'till dusk?"

"Mantispaw and I wanted to go hunting while the gulls are still out," the brown and white tabby replied, "Neither of us have ever caught one, and we wanted to try together."

Monarchstorm grumbled. Fawnpaw flicked her ear as she heard someone- it sounded like Myrtlewhisker- snap at them to either shut up or go outside. The tortoiseshell gave Fawnpaw a seething glare before getting up and padding out of the warrior's den, the apprentice bouncing after her. Despite Monarchstorm's current annoyance, Fawnpaw knew that she wasn't _really_ mad at her. Mantispaw was already waiting in the center of camp with Beebelly. Monarchstorm's eyes brightened considerably upon seeing the third cat sitting with them- Waveflower's silver pelt shone in the sun, and she waved her tail shyly as they approached.

Beebelly purred. "Looks like we've got ourselves a proper patrol," he mewed, "Alrighty! Fresh-kill pile's looking a little sad, so we're going to go fill it up. Clamfur already gave me the go-ahead, so we're going to be hunting on the beach today."

Waveflower purred. "That sounds lovely. It'll be nice to go out before leaf-fall really sets in."

The golden tom nodded. "I agree! Don't you agree, Monarchstorm?"

"I, uh… yes! Yes, I agree." the tortoiseshell nodded her head decisively.

Beebelly looked between the two of them, his expression a mixture of exasperated and amused. "...Alright, let's go," he mewed, padding out of camp. The patrol followed.

Once they were a few fox-lengths away from the exit, the golden tom spoke up again. "I'm thinking we'll start out by the Shrublands and then move to the beach so that Fawnpaw and Mantispaw can work on catching gulls," he meowed, "Sound good to everybody?"

"Yep!" Fawnpaw meowed, standing tall as she scented the air. The rest of the patrol murmured their agreements, and they set off towards the Shrublands. Fawnpaw was hyper aware of Monarchstorm awkwardly padding next to Waveflower, who looked oblivious. Huffing, she twitched her ears to see if she could scout out any prey. The sound of a skittering mouse fell on her ears, and she split off from the group with a nod from her mentor to stalk it.

She padded forwards slowly and silently, making sure her tail was still like she'd been taught, and saw the creature nibbling at a nut. Smoothly, she leaped forwards and on top of it in one fluid motion, batting it around a little bit before killing it with a bite to the throat. The molly trotted proudly back to the patrol, holding her catch in her jaws, only to stop short behind Beebelly and Mantispaw.

Waveflower was laughing at something Monarchstorm said, the tortoiseshell looking at the silver tabby like she held all the stars in her paws. Beebelly nudged the two apprentices out towards the beach. "I'm going to go teach these two how to catch gulls," he called, "You two meet up with us later!"

As soon as the three cats cleared the dune, Beebelly leaned in, whiskers twitching. "I'd say that went well, wouldn't you?" he mewed, eyes bright. Fawnpaw nodded gleefully, bouncing on her toes before dropping the mouse and hurriedly scooping a pawful of sand over.

"They're not even paying attention to us!" she squealed.

Mantispaw sighed wistfully, looking in the direction they'd left the two cats. "They're so cute together," she mewed, "I wonder if they realized we did all this to set them up."

Fawnpaw yawned. "It'd better be worth it! Monarchstorm nearly clawed my ears off for getting her up right now, not to mention I'm sick of watching them moon over each other."

The other apprentice turned, a serious look in her unblinking green eyes. "No, Fawnpaw- you don't _understand_ ," she meowed, "You've only been here a moon! You weren't around for most of their StarClan-forsaken _pining_. They've been dancing around each other since before Siltpaw and I opened our eyes! Everyone in the _Clan_ is sick of it."

Beebelly's shoulders shook with barely suppressed laughs. "It must run in their family, because it took Redstripe _ages_ to ask me to be his mate," he chortled, "They're too hesitant for their own good, the lot of them."

Fawnpaw blinked. "I didn't know that you and Redstripe were mates," she meowed. Beebelly snickered.

"That's 'cause we're not gross about it, like those two. _Sickening_. How do they expect anyone to eat when they look at each other like the moon shines out their-"

"Okay, Beebelly, can you show us how to hunt gulls?" Mantispaw meowed sharply, cutting him off. The golden tom didn't seem to mind, flicking his tail once to get their attention.

"Alright, so- cats have to work in pairs to kill a gull because they're almost the size of one of us," he meowed, peering over the dunes for a gull to stalk, "The tricky part is sneaking up on it, because it can see almost everywhere, and if it sees you, it _will_ fly away. You have to be quieter than a mouse, and sneak up on its blind spot."

Fawnpaw narrowed her eyes. "Where is its blind spot?" she asked.

"Exactly behind it," Beebelly replied, "It can see all the way around, since its eyes are on the sides of its head, but it can't see directly behind. There's one, on the beach." he gestured with his tail.

Mantispaw poked her head up over the dune they were behind. The gull was scratching its head with a webbed foot, grey and white feathers sleek in the sunlight. "I see it!" she whispered excitedly, "It's _huge!"_

Beebelly nodded. "That's a big one, alright. So Fawnpaw- you're a very good hunter, I've been told, so you're going to sneak up on it. Mantispaw, you need to be ready to run out and deliver the killing blow, otherwise it might escape. Are you two ready?"

The two mollies gave each other a glance, and nodded. "Then go! Before it decides to fly away!" the golden tom whisper-yelled. Fawnpaw purred before climbing over the dune, her muscles taut and ready to spring.

Ever so slowly, she crept forwards, keeping her weight low to the ground and her body still. The bird was absorbed in pecking at some twoleg garbage in the sand, and Fawnpaw caught herself curling her lip as if she hadn't been a kittypet herself a moon ago. She caught sight of Mantispaw moving into position out of the corner of her eye, the other apprentice coiled and ready to spring.

She was less than a tail-length away from the gull now. Suddenly it froze, looking up from the garbage it was eating. Fawnpaw froze as well, hoping it wouldn't look behind it. A tense few moments passed, both Fawnpaw and the gull still as stone. When it went back to picking at the garbage, Fawnpaw immediately leaped at it, claws outstretched.

The gull _shrieked._ Fawnpaw landed squarely on its back, claws digging into its skin, but she could barely hold on as the thing thrashed and beat its wings against her ears. She felt herself slip, and buried her fangs in its neck, hoping to hold on long enough to keep it from taking off. _Mantispaw, where are you?_

The other molly barrelled into the gull from the front, knocking Fawnpaw off of it and into the sand. She sprung to her paws just in time to see Mantispaw silence the bird with a swift bite to the throat, and the gull twitched once more before lying still. The other apprentice licked the blood off of her jaws as Beebelly trotted over.

"Good work, you two!" he purred, looking proudly between Fawnpaw and his apprentice, "A little messy, yes, and I'm fairly sure you scared all the rest of the prey off- but for your first time ever hunting a gull, not bad at all!"

He leaned down to inspect the bird. "We might have some trouble getting it back to camp, in fact- you'll both have to carry it on your backs." he waved his tail, "Crouch down, both of you."

Fawnpaw followed his orders, Mantispaw crouching down a moment after. She heard a grunt from Beebelly, and after a few moments of nothingness, suddenly felt the gull's limp form on her back, its wings flopping open and trailing on the sand. Beebelly made an unconfident sounding noise.

"That'll do, I guess," he meowed, "Just- just make sure you're in sync, otherwise it'll fall off. Start heading back to camp, _slowly_ -" he affixed them with a stern look, "And I'll find Waveflower and Monarchstorm."

Beebelly bounded off, and Fawnpaw glanced at Mantispaw out of the corner of her eye. "Do you think Monarchstorm and Waveflower finally worked out their stupid dumb feelings?" she asked.

"I hope so. I can't take another day of it." Mantispaw replied, stepping forwards cautiously. Fawnpaw matched her step

It took the two apprentices a little while to figure out a rhythm where the gull was not in constant danger of slipping, but eventually they managed it, trotting in sync across the sand. They'd made it into the Shrublands when Beebelly met up with them. Waveflower and Monarchstorm were not far behind, and Fawnpaw giddily noticed that their tails were twined.

"Did you two catch that?" Waveflower asked, her blue eyes wide, "It's huge!"

Monarchstorm looked at the gull for a moment, giving her apprentice a proud, approving nod, then turned back to the silver and white tabby. Fawnpaw noticed Manitspaw bounce.

The group trekked back to camp. No sooner had they placed their fresh-kill on the pile than Myrtlewhisker padded up to them, tail bristling. "Have any of you seen Ripplepelt?" the pretty white molly asked, sounding agitated. A chorus of nos replied.

"Not since yesterday at sunhigh," Waveflower commented, "Why? Has something happened?"

Myrtlewhisker lashed her tail. "He's been _gone_ since then, birdbrain!" she snarled, "He said he was going to head out and get some more beachgrass for my nest, but he didn't come back!"

Waveflower blinked. "Have you told Piperstar?"

"Of course I've told Piperstar, do you think I'm an idiot?!" Myrtlewhisker snapped, the fur along her spine bristling. Waveflower took a step back, looking hurt, and Monarchstorm stepped forwards angrily, twining her tail around the silver tabby's.

"You've got no right to talk to Waveflower like that," she hissed, voice low, "Ripplepelt's your mate, yeah, but he's _her_ brother. She's allowed to be concerned."

Though concern for Ripplepelt was still prickling at her, Fawnpaw couldn't help but send Mantispaw a triumphant look. The other molly returned it, albeit subdued.

Myrtlewhisker rolled her eyes, her lip still curled into a snarl. "If you want to join a search party, tell Piperstar," she spat, stalking away to harass some other cats. Waveflower took a shuddering breath.

"Do you think that Ripplepelt's okay?" she asked, voice full of concern.

Monarchstorm gave her a comforting lick on the cheek. "I'm sure he just lost track of time. We'll find him, don't worry."

As Fawnpaw padded to the apprentice's den for some well-deserved rest, she couldn't help but think that two cats going missing in such a short span couldn't be a coincidence. Settling down in her nest, she flicked her tail once.

 _What's going on?_

 **((A/N: Sorry for another long wait! Life has been kicking me in the behind a bit. But yes! The gay cats are here, and the mystery continues :3c**

 **Cloudjumper Kat: Thank you! Mantispaw is about a moon younger than Fawnpaw, the Gathering that she was accepted at was Mantispaw and Siltpaw's first! And I hope people are liking it...**

 **Hey people! If you like this story, a review would make my day! :D))**


	10. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Fawnpaw lifted her head as Siltpaw sat down next to her with a sigh. Three days had passed since Ripplepelt's seemingly random disappearance, and though search parties were out almost constantly, no one had yet to find a hair or whisker of him. Piperstar had sent out the best trackers in the Clan- Frostnose, and surprisingly, Siltpaw, for the past two days straight to search, but the trail ran cold on the beach, the waves already having washed away any clues. "Still nothing?" Fawnpaw asked, looking up at the dark brown tom.

Siltpaw shook his head. "It's like he just _vanished_ ," he said, curling his tail around his paws, "I don't understand it. What could have happened to just make him _leave_?"

Fawnpaw sat up, brushing her cheek against the other cat's shoulder. "Maybe he got attacked by something?" she suggested, knowing the argument was weak, "Or maybe, he got a dream from… uh, StarClan- that's a thing that happens, right? And they were, like, 'Ripplepelt, you have to go on a dangerous quest and you can't tell anyone about it, or they'll die,'" the molly said, deepening her voice to imitate 'StarClan'.

Siltpaw snorted, but the spark of amusement in the air faded fast. They both knew that his heart wasn't in it. A beat of silence passed before Fawnpaw noticed Gullpaw stalking towards them, looking more angry than usual. "Oh boy, here we go," she growled.

The tom wasted no time with pleasantries. "Did you find anything?" he demanded. Siltpaw paused for a moment before shaking his head, and Gullpaw let out a fierce growl, digging his claws into the ground.

"Are you even trying?" he snarled, "My father is missing, Myrtlewhisker isn't eating! She's falling apart- Don't you _care?_ "

Siltpaw opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Fawnpaw jumped to his defense, snarling back at the grey and white tom. "Of course he cares! You can't talk to him like that!"

Gullpaw looked like he was close to clawing her. "Oh, what do _you_ know about family? About loyalty?" he spat, "Nothing! You probably don't even remember your family! In fact, why am I even talking to you? You're a waste of time. Everyone knows that _kittypets_ don't survive their first winter."

Before Fawnpaw could reply by gently clawing his ears off, Gullpaw stalked away. The molly glared at the back of his head, tail lashing, and refused to think about his comment. ' _Everyone knows that kittypets don't survive their first winter.'_ What did _that_ mean? It was much easier to be annoyed, especially with the already tense atmosphere of the camp. "What a jerk," she declared, but Siltpaw only looked tired.

"Ripplepelt is _gone_ , Fawnpaw," he meowed, "Gullpaw was always close to his father, it has to be hard for him. I know he's not the nicest cat, and what he said to you was uncalled for, but… try to have some compassion, will you? He's going through a lot."

Put firmly in her place, Fawnpaw shut up. The two apprentices sat in an uncomfortable silence before Clamfur looked over at them from where she was sunning herself. "You two. If you're not doing anything, go clean the elders," she snapped, "Can't have the whole Clan falling apart because Ripplepelt is missing,"

Siltpaw nodded obediently and set off towards Plovercloud's den for the mouse-bile. Fawnpaw trailed after him. She still felt rather sheepish after Siltpaw had told her off, so she didn't even laugh at the way he had to skitter across the sand on his hind legs in order to keep the mouse bile from getting in his mouth. Since the tom had such a strong sense of smell, even holding the bile in a leaf was too overwhelming for him. The two cats pushed their way under the bush, the elders whipping their heads around from where they were talking in quiet voices.

"Has there been any news?" Shellfoot asked.

Siltpaw shook his head again. "We're just here to clean off your ticks," he meowed, his tail drooping.

Hollypelt lashed his tail. "Better that than just waiting around, I suppose," he growled, "I've got one on my shoulder."

As Siltpaw made his way over to the ill-tempered tom, Fawnpaw glanced at Palethroat. The seal-point seemed to be in deep thought, his paws tucked under his chest and his crossed eyes having a faraway look to them. Fawnpaw cleared her throat. "Do either of you have any ticks?" she asked.

Shellfoot shook her head, but Palethroat glanced up. "There's one on my back, I can't reach it," he meowed, looking somewhat apologetic. Fawnpaw nodded, knowing the old tom didn't much like to be cared for, and made her way over, dabbing the mouse bile around the swollen area of the tick.

Their was a heavy, anxious silence. Palethroat broke it by humming quietly. "Would you two like to hear a story while you work?" he asked, "It might lighten the mood a bit."

Fawnpaw nodded before remembering the tom had his back to her. "Yes, please!" she mewed, watching Siltpaw agree gratefully. The old cat cleared his throat.

"Alright, I'll make it a short one this time, since I'm sure Siltpaw is tired. Do either of you know what happens to cats who completely break the warrior code?" he asked.

Fawnpaw hesitated before shaking her head. Siltpaw looked a mixture of apprehensive and excited. "I remember this story. It's kind of creepy though- are you sure it's a lighten-the-mood kind?"

Palethoat scoffed. "No better way to lighten the mood than a good-old-fashioned ghost story, Siltpaw. All the cats I speak about are long dead and gone. But if you think Fawnpaw can't handle it…" he trailed off.

Fawnpaw shot Siltpaw a glare, suddenly _very_ invested in hearing this story, but his suddenly nervous expression made it clear that that was not his intent. Palethroat chuckled. "I can feel you bristling, Fawnpaw. I was only teasing. Here, let me start…

"Long, long ago, there lived a cat in our very own DuneClan. Everything about them has been lost to time- in fact, scrubbed away by our Clan's historians. If a cat commits such atrocities as this one, by law, their name must be scourged from our stories.

"This cat, whatever their name was, grew up as an ordinary warrior, but that was not to last. They had fallen in love with a SunkenClan cat, an act forbidden by the warrior code. For moons, they snuck out in secret to meet their mate, disguising their scent with seaweed before going to the border. However, one day in leaf-bare, the unimaginable happened. One of their Clanmates- their own apprentice, no less- followed them out to their meeting place. This cat discovered the apprentice, but rather than admit their wrongdoing and return to their Clan in shame, they murdered him.

"They hid his body on the SunkenClan border, thinking they had done a good enough job that no cat would find him until after leaf-bare was over. However, they underestimated DuneClan's loyalty to their young. The apprentice's body was found within days, stinking of SunkenClan and covered in wounds that could have only come from a cat.

"And so a great war was sparked between SunkenClan and DuneClan, and the warrior refused to admit their wrongdoing. In fact, it wasn't until the warrior's mate was killed in battle that they broke down and proclaimed their sins at a Gathering. Ordinarily, a cat taking a mate in another Clan doesn't warrant too harsh a punishment- a humiliating punishment, not a harsh one- but this cat had single-pawedly caused the deaths of countless DuneClan and SunkenClan cats by their failure to follow the code, as well as murdered their own apprentice in cold blood.

"The story varies on what happened next. Some say the cat was exiled, stripped of their name and rank and driven out as a rogue, where they presumably died alone in the coming moons. Others say that the cat was killed on the spot, ripped to shreds by their former clanmates. But the most chilling version of the story is that the cat ran away to avoid punishment, and leaped off the flatstones to their death,"

Fawnpaw's eyes widened. "No," she breathed.

Palethroat nodded, looking pleased with himself. "Yes. The cat believed that they had done all that they had in the name of love, that StarClan couldn't punish them for it, and they leaped off of the stones to see their mate again. But when they drowned, it was not their mate that greeted them, but their dead apprentice. When they called out for their mate, she turned her back on them, horrified by the cat they had become.

"The disgraced warrior was cast out from StarClan, but their spirit was too angry to move on or fade away. Instead it lingered, declaring war on the Clans and settling in the ocean, pulling all who get too close to the water's edge into its depths. It is said that during the leaf-bare, if you listen past the waves and the wind, you can hear the keening of a cat who can never settle in the stars.

"However, don't pity this cat," Palethroat warned, "It hates all Clan cats- that is the only semblance of it that remains, the rest has faded long ago. If you get too close to the water's edge, even if your paws barely touch the foam, it will know your scent. And when it knows your scent, it will not hesitate to drown you."

Fawnpaw shuddered. "That's just a kit's tale, right?" she asked, "To keep them away from the ocean?" The whole situation struck eerily close to home, with Rainpaw and Ripplepelt's seemingly random disappearances, and the tabby hurriedly smoothed down her chest fur to hide how much the story had rattled her. She saw Palethroat's whiskers twitch.

"That depends on who you ask," he meowed, giving the young molly a wink.

Shellfoot had a pensive look on her face. "We all love a good ghost tale, Palethroat, but perhaps now was not the best time for that particular one, with warriors vanishing into thin air," she said, giving the old tom a stern look. Palethroat chuckled sheepishly.

The rest of the day was spent listening to the elders chat, Fawnpaw keeping her ears open for the juicy gossip. The topic of Ripplepelt was being avoided, it seemed, the old cats just discussing who should be mates with who- the apparent fact that Gullpaw had eyes for Cricketpelt was news- but after that she tuned out, already aware of much of their chatter. When Palethroat's tick at last came off, the elders shooed the apprentices out of the den, claiming they had "grown cat things" to talk about.

As luck would have it, Piperstar was climbing the Tallbranch as soon as the two young cats exited the den. Fawnpaw and Siltpaw had already found their ways to the best spots in the camp when Piperstar opened her mouth to call a Clan meeting.

"Let all cats old enough to run the dunes gather here beneath the Tallbranch for a Clan meeting!"

Murmuring descended upon the camp as cats filtered out of the dens to sit beneath the branch. Fawnpaw caught a few snippets here and there- most of the chatter had something to do with Ripplepelt, and his current state. Fawnpaw couldn't help but be curious herself. Lionpaw and Mantispaw weaved their way through the crowd to sit by them, and the tabby caught sight of Gullpaw sitting next to a listless Myrtlewhisker. Monarchstorm groomed Waveflower, who looked distraught, and Grasstail shooed her kits into the nursery.

Piperstar looked more tired than usual as she addressed the Clan. "I know that many of you are confused and afraid," she yowled, "A Clanmate has gone missing. This is obviously cause for alarm."

The Clan murmured, and the molly took a breath. "We've had search parties out constantly," she continued, "All trails end at the beach. It was high tide when I first sent the patrols out, whatever scents were there have since been washed away. Our best trackers, Frostnose and Siltpaw, have found nothing."

She bowed her head, silent as a breeze ruffled her fur. After another moment, she inhaled shakily, and turned back to the Clan. "With the evidence that we have right now- that he left the camp very suddenly, that he lied about where he was going, that he went down to the beach during low tide, knowing the ocean would wash away his scent- the most likely situation is that… he ran away," Piperstar said, seeming as though the words physically pained her. Fawnpaw's eyes widened, the murmuring increased in volume. "We don't know why he would have-"

"No!"

All eyes turned to Gullpaw, who was standing curled around Myrtlewhisker, his tail puffed up. Piperstar didn't seem angry, just upset, as she watched the young tom bristle at her.

"No, he wouldn't have!" Gullpaw yowled, "I know Ripplepelt, if something was wrong he would've told us! Would've told _you!_ I'm close to becoming a Warrior, all he'd talk about was how excited he was- he- he wouldn't just _leave!"_

"Gullpaw, we don't have any other explanation," a grey and white tabby named Stormheart meowed heavily. Gullpaw spat at him before turning back to Piperstar.

"So you're just going to give up?" he snarled, "He's only been gone three days, you're going to stop looking now? He's been a loyal Warrior for _moons_ and you're just going to give up on him?!"

Piperstar seemed at a loss for words, and Clamfur stepped up. "Watch your tone, Gullpaw," she growled, "Leaf-bare is approaching, and as much as I hate to say it, we have other priorities. Soon the storms will set in- we need to keep SunkenClan away from the swale, we need to help Plovercloud gather herbs, we need to focus on catching as much prey as we can while the days are still long and the sun still shines. We won't stop looking for Ripplepelt, but we can't have all of our mice in one paw."

Gullpaw arched his back, spitting. "I can't believe you're all just abandoning him! Are we no better than the rogues now? Than the kittypets? I thought we had a _code."_

Fawnpaw flinched slightly at the venom in his voice, and as she looked around, she saw that most of the Clan was giving him sad, pitying looks.

"Gullpaw," Mousefang's calm voice rang out, "That is enough."

The grey and white tom seemed to come back to himself, hackles lowering, and he glanced around at the pitying faces with wide eyes. A myriad of emotions flashed in his expressions- shock, fear, shame, anger, grief. Without saying anything else, he turned and ran for the thickets. Mousefang looked at Piperstar, who nodded quietly, before chasing after him.

Piperstar looked moons older. "This meeting is over," she called, "If any of you have new information, please tell me or Clamfur immediately."

The molly leaped down from the Tallbranch and retreated into her den, her tail dragging a line in the sand. Clamfur followed her. The Clan's murmuring increased in volume until it became chatter, with some cats breaking off from the group and going over to comfort Myrtlewhisker and Waveflower quietly. Fawnpaw turned to face the rest of the apprentices.

Their usual talk was quiet. Lionpaw, Mantispaw, and Siltpaw sat quietly, staring at the sand. Fawnpaw narrowed her eyes and ducked her head. "Hey. Do you guys think that Ripplepelt ran away?" she whispered.

Lionpaw shook his head. "I- I dunno. He, um, didn't seem like he was the type, but…" he mewed quietly, "I guess… if Piperstar said he ran? Then he did?"

Mantispaw lashed her tail, exhaling quietly. "I just- I can't believe Ripplepelt would do something like that. He never- I never thought he'd be the type to desert." Siltpaw nodded in agreement.

The brown and white tabby twitched an ear. "I don't think he _did_ desert," she meowed, "I think something weird is going on- Rainpaw disappeared too, remember? Is that a coincidence?"

Lionpaw looked thoughtful, but Siltpaw shook his head. "This isn't like being a kittypet, Fawnpaw," he meowed tiredly, "Cats die out here, or go missing, all the time. I don't think there's anything out of the norm happening, just two cats that left their homes for whatever reasons they had."

With that, the tom stood up and started padding towards the apprentice's den. Fawnpaw watched him go, feeling bad about herself again. Mantispaw brushed her fur with her cheek. "Siltpaw gets upset when he can't do something," she mewed, "He's not upset with you, really." Then she padded after her brother, and Fawnpaw was left alone with Lionpaw.

She didn't say anything, consumed by her own thoughts. ' _Cats die out here, or go missing, all the time,'_ Siltpaw had said. ' _Why am I even talking to you? You're a waste of time. Everyone knows that_ kittypets _don't survive their first winter,'_ Gullpaw had snapped at her this morning. She'd never really considered that she could really, honestly _die_ out here, that she'd fade away into nothingness and the Clan would move on. And sure, they _said_ 'StarClan' was where a cat went after they died, but what if the cat was evil? Or what if they didn't quite believe in StarClan, like her? Lionpaw, Siltpaw, Mantispaw, they could die anytime, and she'd never see them again. Monarchstorm or Waveflower, Redstripe or Beebelly- even Saltkit and Foamkit. She felt sick.

Lionpaw pressed against her side and licked her ear. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, "You look like you're about to be sick." Fawnpaw squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and inhaled a big breath of air, then shook her head to clear it and looked at the tom.

"I'm… okay," she breathed, "Just thinking about some things, that I probably shouldn't be thinking about."

The tom looked unconvinced. "You don't- you don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with, but… I'm, um. I'm here if you need an ear," he meowed, "Do you want to share some fresh-kill, or, uh, would you rather just go to sleep?"

Fawnpaw's stomach rumbled. "I guess that's the answer," she mewed, stepping her way over to the pile. Lionpaw followed, and the two of them selected a good-sized plover to share. Even as they shared the bird, and made quiet conversation, Fawnpaw couldn't help but feel distracted by a question that she couldn't answer.

Were these vanishings really ordinary, or was something bigger going on?

 **((A/N: Hello again! I've been excited for this chapter for a while, because of the big emotional scene, ehehehe. And another, smaller, Palethroat story! It's sort of relevant to the plot, but it's not exactly how it seems... Anyways, what do you guys think is happening to the missing cats? What do you think is going to happen next chapter?**

 **Cloudjumper Kat: I'm glad you like Monarchstorm and Waveflower together! They're lesbeans n i love them. And yes, I agree, it'd be so nice if cats would actually kill a few gulls now and then, lol. I'm excited for them to be warriors too, I've got most of their names picked out!**

 **As for the missing cats, I have only this to say- :3c**

 **Pandean: AAA thank you, I'm really glad you reviewed! As much as I love Cloudjumper Kat's reviews (3) it's really nice to get a different opinion once in a while.**

 **Again, if you like this story, please leave a review! It'll make my day if you do! But if you don't, I still love you, and thank you for reading :3))**


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Again."

Fawnpaw huffed and shook the sand from her pelt as she crouched back into her fighting stance. Lionpaw, her opponent, stood on the opposite side of the dune, looking like he'd been dusted with a fine coat of silt. No sooner had she started moving than he was sprinting at her, using his heavier weight to bowl her over and knock her into the ground. She wrapped her paws around his neck and kicked at his belly until he wheezed, then rolled out from under him to land lightly on her paws. However, Lionpaw just kept coming, batting at her head before tackling her again. This time, he kept his paws pinned on her shoulders, leaving Fawnpaw with nothing to do but struggle.

"Okay, that's enough!"

Monarchstorm and Redstripe sat together at the edge of the hollow dip of sand. As Lionpaw stepped off of Fawnpaw and shook out his fur, Redstripe affixed the tortoiseshell with a smug look. "That's… how many wins for Lionpaw?" he asked.

Monarchstorm mumbled something.

"I can't _heaaar_ you," Redstripe sing-songed.

"Five," Monarchstorm gritted.

Redstripe nodded. "And how many for _your_ apprentice?" he asked gleefully. Fawnpaw thought that he was enjoying her suffering entirely too much.

The tortoiseshell hissed out a word that might have been "none," but was much more likely, "you piece of fox-dung."

Fawnpaw ignored the siblings bickering, instead flopping against Lionpaw. "Is this how you feel when we hunt, and I'm so much better than you?" she panted, the ache in her limbs promising to be much worse tomorrow.

Lionpaw snorted, licking the sand from her ear. "I don't get as sandy," he mewed, eyeing the specks in Fawnpaw's pelt. The brown tabby groaned dramatically.

"Don't remind me," she caterwauled, "It'll take me _moons_ to get all of this out of my fur."

Over by the edge of the hollow dune, Monarchstorm and Redstripe had stopped arguing. "You two! Stop lying all over each other and square up again!" the tortoiseshell yowled. Fawnpaw, somewhat embarrassed and afraid of more work, chose not to comment on how Monarchstorm and Waveflower were lying on each other whenever they were in vicinity. Redstripe, however, fixed his sister with a dubious glance.

Fawnpaw crouched down again, ready for the beating that was sure to come. She kept her eyes on Lionpaw, barely hearing Redstripe murmur something quiet to Monarchstorm and leave the clearing. At the tortoiseshell's command, they sprang at each other, writhing and rolling in the sand with ferocity. Fawnpaw tried to use her speed against Lionpaw, but was uncoordinated in battle, losing track of her tail or her paws. Lionpaw easily gained the upper hand again and knocked her down.

Monarchstorm tutted, padding over to them. "Okay. Fawnpaw, I think we pushed you too fast- you have to work on perfecting the basic drills before you should practice on another cat. And Lionpaw, barreling your opponent over won't work every time, you need to work on your technique."

Relief flowed through her as Lionpaw got up and she realized she wouldn't have to spar him again. Then she blinked. "Where'd Redstripe go?" she asked.

The tortoiseshell flicked her tail. "He said he smelled something weird and wanted to go check it out," she meowed, "He'll be back in a minute."

Lionpaw's tail lowered. "B-but… Didn't Piperstar say we weren't supposed to leave camp alone?" he asked.

A few weeks after Ripplepelt vanished, at the medicine cat gathering, Plovercloud had learned of a missing cat from SunkenClan, a molly named Foxstorm. The news had unnerved Piperstar enough that she'd called a Clan meeting and ordered that no cats were to leave camp alone, just in case there _was_ something strange going on.

"First of all, we left camp in a group, and Piperstar never said anything about going off on your own once you're on the dunes," Monachstorm mewed, "Redstripe can take care of himself, he'll be fine. Now, Fawnpaw, let's work on your strikes"

Fawnpaw groaned.

"Don't give me that," Monarchstorm growled, a playful tint to her words, "Come on. How do DuneClan cats fight?"

The tortoiseshell blinked at her for a moment, then quickly turned to Lionpaw. "Work on your movements in the air until Redstripe gets back," she called, and then looked back at Fawnpaw expectantly.

"Uh…" the brown and white tabby mewed, trying to remember what she'd been told earlier, "We fight… with… our fangs?"

"Because…" Monarchstorm prompted.

"Because… our… claws are dull, from running on the sand?"

The tortoiseshell purred. "You don't sound sure about that."

Fawnpaw scowled. "Am I right or not?"

Waving her tail, Monarchstorm got up and circled around her. "You're right. DuneClan cats tend not to be the greatest fighters- there's a reason not many of us are 'claws. We're so skinny and lanky that it's easy for the other Clans to unbalance us. That's why we need to practice our stances. Let me see yours."

Fawnpaw crouched, keeping her paws slightly wider apart than her body, her ears tucked back against her head.

"Tuck your tail in," Monarchstorm meowed, "And lower your haunches more."

Fawnpaw obliged, tucking the length of her tail under her body. Apparently, since DuneClan cats had such long tails, it was easy for the other Clans to disorient them by stepping on or biting them. Keeping the tail tucked in was an good way, Monarchstorm had said, to make enemy underestimate you, and remove a target. _It's also a good way to be off-balance all the time,_ Fawnpaw thought as she couldn't help but think of the trade-off wasn't quite worth it.

"Better. Now, focus on _keeping_ your tail there when you do your move."

The sun had slowly been swallowed up by the ground as Fawnpaw trained, first in the air, and then, when Monarchstorm thought she was ready, with Lionpaw again. She'd managed to gain the upper paw once, a whopping one win against his seven or so. The first stars were twinkling in the sky when Monarchstorm called for them to stop. Fawnpaw slid to the ground, not even caring that the sand got into her fur, and panted heavily. Lionpaw stood over her, looking slightly concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Never better," Fawnpaw quipped.

Monarchstorm didn't seem amused, distractedly staring into the thicket. "Off the ground, you two," she called, "You didn't see Redstripe come back, did you?" she asked.

"No…" Lionpaw mewed, blinking confusedly. Fawnpaw shook out her pelt, feeling a little guilty. She'd forgotten about Redstripe in the haze of training, and from Monarchstorm's nervous expression, she had, too.

There was a beat of silence before Lionpaw spoke up. "Maybe we should go look for him?" he said, "It… it hasn't been _that_ long, he probably… got distracted and went hunting, or something?"

Monarchstorm licked her chest fur a few times. "Good idea, Lionpaw. Let's test your tracking skills. Follow Redstripe's scent."

Fawnpaw opened her mouth and scented the air, catching the relatively fresh scent of Redstripe by the edge of the clearing. Flicking her tail, she padded forwards the trail, Lionpaw following her. Monarchstorm brought up the rear, her tail flicking anxiously.

The scent weaved through the thickets, right up to the SunkenClan border. There, it seemed that Redstripe had milled around a little bit, perhaps talking to a SunkenClan patrol- there were fresh scent markings. Then the scent trail abruptly turned towards the ocean, and the three cats followed it in a straight, severe line down to the sand. It veered off a few fox-lengths from the open sea, ending in a patch of seaweed.

"He… disguised his scent," Monarchstorm meowed, staring at the seaweed before glancing around, "Why would he have rolled around in this?"

Fawnpaw had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Maybe he wanted to play a prank on Beebelly?" she asked weakly, opening her mouth in case any traces of the red tom's scent remained. She couldn't smell anything but the seaweed, which blended in with the sand and ocean scents so well that it was almost like Redstripe had never been there at all .

Monarchstorm's tail twitched as she flattened her ears to her skull. "Let's spread out. Within shouting distance, so none of us go missing. See if you can find anything."

Lionpaw looked uncomfortable at the prospect, but concern for his mentor won out as he went to examine the dunegrass. Monarchstorm stayed on the beach, scenting the air, and Fawnpaw padded towards the shoreline, looking for pawprints. As she padded closer to the sea, something cold and fearful settled in her belly. She felt as though something out in the ocean was watching her, studying her. She willed the fur on her spine to lay flat.

A yelp tore itself from her throat as she stepped on something cold and slimy, and she sprung backwards to see a red, gelatinous substance on the beach. Whatever it was, it was scattered and broken, pieces of it among the foam and sand. "Monarchstoooorm!" she wailed.

"What? What is it? Did you find him?" the molly asked, sprinting over. Fawnpaw gestured to the slimy substance, looking fearful.

"I don't know what this is, is it him? Did he get crushed?" Fawnpaw squeaked, tail bristling, "Did the waves crush him? Why would he have gone in the ocean? Can the ocean crush you? Can-"

The tortoiseshell sighed. "Calm down. Those are just jellies, Fawnpaw. Usually they're clear, but red ones show up every so often. They come from the ocean and get squished on the beach, and they're harmless. Just- just keep looking."

Fawnpaw watched Monarchstorm stalk away, back to the sand on the beach. The cold feeling in her stomach was only amplified the longer she stayed near the water. With Palethroat's story still fresh in her mind, she skittered back and forth like a sandpiper rather than let the waves touch her paws. By the time the moon was high in the sky and Monarchstorm called for them to head back to camp, she couldn't stop her tail from bristling.

The three of them padded into camp, Monarchstorm and Lionpaw heading directly for Beebelly. Fawnpaw padded over to Grasstail, who was sitting outside since Saltkit and Foamkit were both asleep in the nursery.

"Hello, Fawnpaw!" the golden tabby called, "How did training go?"

"Training?" she blinked. With all of the searching, she'd practically forgotten that she'd trained at all. "It was- it was fine, I guess. Have you seen Redstripe?"

Concern flashed across Grasstail's features. "I thought he was with you."

Fawnpaw shook her head. "He said he smelled something funny and then left. We didn't realize how long it'd been." She decided to leave out the part about the seaweed for now. Grasstail curled her tail around her paws.

"Well, the dusk hunting patrol just came back," she mewed, "Maybe they've seen him?"

Fawnpaw nodded. "I'll check. Thanks, Grasstail."

The hunting patrol was comprised of Siltpaw and his mentor, Cherryclaw, a pretty spotted grey molly named Sealface, and a light brown tabby tom named Sandpelt. As they broke apart to put their prey on the pile, Fawnpaw bounded up to Siltpaw.

"Did you see Redstripe on your patrol?" she asked, eyes wide.

Siltpaw spat out his mouse and turned to face her, looking concerned. "No. I thought you were training with him and Lionpaw today."

Fawnpaw huffed, already irritated with having to tell the story again. "He said he smelled something funny and went to check it out, and we got so wrapped up in training that we didn't notice he wasn't back until late," she meowed, "Ask everyone else!"

The tom nodded. "I will."

Fawnpaw trotted back to Monarchstorm and Lionpaw, and caught sight of Beebelly's tail disappearing into Piperstar's den. "Anything?" she asked.

"No, Beebelly hasn't seen him." Monarchstorm fretted, "I shouldn't have let him go off on his own, I just thought- you know, he's always been strong, I figured he'd be fine, just for a few minutes…"

Lionpaw looked uncomfortable. Fawnpaw flicked her tail, unsure whether she should comfort her mentor or leave her be. She'd never seen Monarchstorm lose her cool before, and it wasn't fun to watch.

Beebelly poked his head out of Piperstar's den, looking terrified. Fawnpaw remembered that he was Redstripe's mate. "Piperstar wants to see you three," he meowed shakily, before running towards the edge of camp, "Frostnose! Siltpaw! Help me find Redstripe!"

The three of them padded into Piperstar's den. The molly looked exhausted. "Alright," she meowed, "I want you to tell me exactly what happened. Don't leave any detail out."

.

.

.

Redstripe didn't come back.

 **((A/N: another chapter, woo! I had a lot of trouble writing this one, for some reason, which is why it's a little short. But! More stuff happening. I don't know if I ever wrote that Monarchstorm and Redstripe are siblings, but they are! So. Now you know. :3c. Also~! What do you guys think the apprentices warrior names will be? Remember that each suffix has a meaning, and only the ones in the story are allowed!**

 **dragonwritergirl112: Thanks! I'm glad you like it :)**

 **Cloudjumper Kat: Gullpaw IS a jerk. He has a reason for not really liking kittypets that'll be shown later, but it's kind of a dumb reason and he's dumb. I'm glad you feel sorry for him though, that means I'm doing my job :D**

 **Cosmicjade: Thanks so much! I'm so happy you like it~**


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Let all cats old enough to run the dunes gather here beneath the Tallbranch for a Clan Meeting!" Piperstar's voice rang out across the camp. Fawnpaw poked her head out of the apprentice's den.

It had been two days since Redstripe's disappearance. Patrols were constantly out, but still, no sign of the ginger tom. The whole situation was eerily similar to Ripplepelt's vanishing, although this one had more a bit more information behind it. They knew that Redstripe had purposefully disguised his scent in a patch of seaweed, and Monarchstorm had said he seemed distracted and distant before he left. Fawnpaw made her way over to where Lionpaw, Mantispaw, and Siltpaw were sitting.

As the cats filtered out of their dens, she leaned over to her friends. "I hope it's good news," she mewed, shoving down the bubbling doubt, "Monarchstorm's so upset, I feel bad," She glanced over at the tortoiseshell.

Monarchstorm's head was bowed, her fur messier than usual, in a way that suggested she wasn't caring for it rather than just being so active it wouldn't lie flat. Waveflower was leaning against her, grooming her pelt and murmuring in her ear.

"Beebelly's upset, too," Mantispaw said, "I mean, of _course_ he is, how couldn't he be, but. I've never seen him like this."

Fawnpaw looked around for the golden tom. He was sitting next to Grasstail, their golden pelts the same shade, as she comforted him. She opened her mouth to reply, but was shushed by Siltpaw, who was looking up at Piperstar.

The leader was standing as straighter than any of the trees in SunkenClan territory, her brown-striped tail pointed at the sky. She surveyed the Clan with narrowed amber eyes, as if checking to see if everyone was there. Fawnpaw wondered if Clamfur had given her some kind of pep talk, because she looked nothing like the defeated molly that had slunk into her den, head and tail hanging, after Ripplepelt's disappearance. "I'm sure all of you have heard by now that Redstripe has gone missing," she yowled. Murmurs of assent spread through the Clan like ripples.

"Both Redstripe and Ripplepelt left of their own volition, it seems," she said, her amber eyes hard and creased, "Redstripe went so far as to disguise his scent in seaweed before he left. Whatever is going on, it seems like the cats that have vanished have done so on purpose."

A choked noise came from Beebelly. Grasstail gave him a few soothing licks, quiet condolences were murmured from Frostnose and Stormheart. Gullpaw had his lip curled in a snarl. Piperstar seemed to lose her resolve for a moment, her ears flattening against her skull, one paw raised uncertainly in the air, but with a flick of her tail, she swallowed thickly and went on. "From now on, no cat is permitted to leave camp on their own. Patrols will be doubled along all sides. All excursions must be cleared with Clamfur or myself."

The quiet murmurs turned to cries of annoyance. Fawnpaw glanced around, unable to pick out a specific voice until Whalefur's deep bellow came from the center of the crowd. "This is crazy!" she yowled. All heads turned to her as she stood at her full, broad-chested height, ears folded back against her head and hackes raised. "You can't keep us trapped in camp like we're war prisoners!"

A few cats called their agreement. Clamfur let out a hiss, but Piperstar quieted her with a glance, before turning her gaze on Whalefur, eyes narrowed. "I will do what I must to keep my Clan together and safe," she growled, "Don't forget that the leader's word is law."

Her gaze swept across the camp, as if daring the cats to cry against her. The few cats that had argued were conspicuously silent as her amber eyes bored into them. When her gaze settled on Whalefur, the molly, proud as she was, clawed a line in the loose sand before sitting back down, her pelt still bristling. Fawnpaw had an uncomfortable feeling trickling down her neck, like she'd witnessed something she wasn't supposed to see. DuneClan had always seemed to work as a single unit, dissenting voices few and far between, and Piperstar had always seemed open to suggestions and criticism from her Clanmates. It was disorienting to see a confrontation between the two of them.

Piperstar was silent for another moment, the Clan waiting with baited breath for her next words. "Any cat caught sneaking out of camp will face severe punishment," she called, "Before we disband, there is one more thing I need to do. Lionpaw, come forward."

After glancing around in confusion, the golden-brown got up and padded below the branch. "Lionpaw, Redstripe was your mentor, and since he is gone, you need a new one. Until his possible return, Sealface will mentor you. I trust she will continue your training, and pass down all she has learned."

The pretty spotted tabby padded forwards, looking bewildered, and touched noses with Lionpaw before stepping back into the crowd. Piperstar sighed.

"That will be all. This meeting is dismissed."

She leaped down from the Tallbranch and padded towards Clamfur. Murmuring erupted from the DuneClan cats, the four apprentices sitting in a stunned silence.

"That was…" Lionpaw started.

"Insane?!"

"I can't believe Piperstar was so…"

"Cold?"

"Stop cutting off our sentences, Mantispaw," Siltpaw mewed crossly. Mantispaw shut her mouth with a _click_ , her expression morphing into a pout. He sighed, bowing his head, and then raised it again to look at the Tallbranch.

"Is that what… uh… Molluskstar? Was like?" Fawnpaw asked, wrapping her tail around her paws.

Siltpaw looked surprised. "You remembered her mention Molluskstar?" he asked, "I don't think I've heard anyone talk about him since the Gathering when you joined."

Fawnpaw nodded. "I mean, that night was a pretty big deal, so. I think it's seared into my memory."

Lionpaw looked down, licking his chest fur. Fawnpaw almost laughed- he was so easy to read, it was clear that he had completely forgotten who Molluskstar was. Any other day she would have teased him, but the teasing mood had left her as soon as Piperstar started acting like that.

Mantispaw began grooming a paw. "I don't remember Molluskstar that well, to be honest. He was really tall, and really dark colored- darker than most DuneClan cats. I would've thought he was SunkenClan if he wasn't so big," she said, "He seemed pretty strict, but not in a bad way. Siltpaw and I had only been apprenticed for a couple of weeks when he died."

"I feel like Piperstar might be overdoing it a little," Fawnpaw mewed, craning her head to look at the molly, "She's still pretty new, right? Y'think she's afraid cats are deserting, 'cause they don't like the way she's leading?"

"You can't just say stuff like that!" Siltpaw hissed quietly, "She's our leader. She's doing what's best for us!"

Fawnpaw folded her ears back at his reprimand. "I didn't say she wasn't, I'm just trying to figure out a reason for all of this!" she whispered back, "I don't think she knows what's going on any more than we do."

Siltpaw opened and closed his mouth, as if he didn't know how to respond. Eventually he said, "I'm going to clean out the elder's dens," and padded away. Fawnpaw watched him go, feeling guilty, and Lionpaw gave her a sidelong look.

"Well! I don't know what's gotten into him!" Mantispaw piped up, after a moment of heavy silence, "Maybe he's upset that he can't find the missing cats. Also, it's kind of weird when you question Piperstar like that."

Fawnpaw threw her head back, frustrated. "I'm just thinking out loud!"

"Well, I'm gonna go check on him, make sure he's doing okay. See you guys." Mantispaw mewed, following after her brother. Fawnpaw watched her go, a spike of annoyance flaring. Why _shouldn't_ she question Piperstar?

"I feel like I'm the only one actually trying to figure out what's going on," she said, half to herself.

Lionpaw stretched, his pelt reddish in the dying light. "I'm sure- I'm sure Piperstar's doing everything she can," he mewed, "I know you want to figure it out, but, uh… I guess it's just, not what cats do here. You saw Whalefur."

Fawnpaw nodded, flashing back to Piperstar's succinct shutdown of the grey molly's protest. Suddenly feeling tired, she yawned.

"Well, I'm going to nap for a while," she mewed, trying to ignore the dissatisfied feeling sinking in her belly, "Maybe you should talk to Sealface?"

Lionpaw nodded. "That's a good idea. Sleep well, Fawnpaw."

Fawnpaw was just about to go back to her nest when she saw Plovercloud hurrying into Piperstar's den. The medicine cat looked frantic, his grey and white pelt disheveled, and Fawnpaw veered off course to follow him, climbing quietly up the dead tree's roots. Perhaps she'd learn something today after all.

"Did I do the right thing, Clamfur?" Piperstar's voice sounded tinny and hollow through the bark.

"You're too soft, Piperstar," the old molly replied, "You have to keep the Clan together and functional. If that means pretending you know what's going on, so be it."

It was quiet. Fawnpaw could hear shuffling, and then Piperstar's surprised mew. "Oh. Plovercloud, is there something you need?"

The medicine cat took a breath. "I've had a dream," he said. Fawnpaw sighed, unimpressed.

Piperstar's voice was sharp and urgent. "StarClan has spoken with you? I thought you received nothing from them at the last trip to Whaleskull Cavern."

"I didn't. But, Piperstar, this dream was so different than anything they've ever shared with me- it was as if i was trapped under the weight of a thousand cats, unable to move or react, and a cat that i couldn't recognize kept flashing, trying to speak to me. But I couldn't hear them."

There was a beat of silence before Clamfur spoke up. "An omen?"

"No," Plovercloud mewed, "No, I don't- it didn't feel like an omen. It felt… like StarClan _couldn't_ speak to me for some reason. I've never felt anything like it."

Another moment of silence. Fawnpaw stood to leave. Even after living with them for almost two moons, she didn't understand how these cats could put so much stock into nightmares and dreams. She leaped off of the root, hoping that she looked inconspicuous enough that no one would question her.

"Oh, Fawnpaw," Clamfur's gruff mew came from behind her, and she froze. "Where did you come from?"

"I was…" she mewed, turning slowly to face the dilute tortoiseshell, "I, uh, was sitting over here for the announcement? Didn't you see me?"

Clamfur's yellow eyes narrowed. "No, I didn't."

Fawnpaw twitched her tail, feeling her ears begin to warm and fold backwards. "Well, I was! I guess I just blend in with everyone else, haha."

"Right." Clamfur meowed. Fawnpaw tried to give her a friendly look, but if Clamfur's reaction was anything to go by, it came out looking more like a grimace. A tense moment passed before Clamfur sat down and began grooming her paw.

"Well, quit standing around and do something useful," Clamfur snapped, "Or go to your den, you staring at me is making me uncomfortable."

Fawnpaw hopped up. "R-right! Yes, okay, right away." she said, trotting over to the apprentice's den. She curled up in her nest, feeling very small and very disappointed.

 **((A/N: HOO BOY did I have a lot of trouble with this one. Sorry it took me so long, aah! I was sick, and school, and aagh all of this STUFF! but it's thanksgiving now and im free (well, i still have one more day, but. i'm basically free). Also changed the Sacred StarClan place to Whaleskull Cavern, the Hollowtree just wasn't cutting it for me! I'll go back and edit the other chapters when I have time c:**

 **Guest: aaaa thank you so much! sorry this took so long aaaa ;v;**

 **Cloudjumper Kat: Monarchstorm will be okay! She and Waveflower are gonna get through this together :v**

 **You got two of the names right! The other three not so much, although I do really like one of the ones you suggested and I will have to think about it.**

 **dragonwritergirl112: they've got a mystery on their paws, we've got one on our hands, lol.**

 **anyways! if you like it, or if you don't, let me know! I feed off of other people's opinions. Have a lovely thanksgiving to all the americans reading this and a lovely week for everyone else! :3 ))**


	13. Chapter 11

Fawnpaw rubbed her cheek against a bush, solidifying the faded DuneClan scent mark. She hadn't been on too many border patrols in the roughly two moons she'd been with DuneClan, most of her time being spent learning skills that the other apprentices had already mastered, but now that she was caught up, it was time for her to learn how to interact with the other Clans- or more specifically, SunkenClan. They didn't share a border with MarshClan.

"You done over there?" Monarchstorm called. The molly was doing much better, after having about three days to cope with Redstripe's disappearance. With the support of Waveflower and the rest of the Clan, it seemed as though she'd moved on. Fawnpaw, though, had seen the quiet, sad look on her face when she thought no one was watching.

Shaking her head, the brown and white tabby sped up to join the rest of the patrol. Sandpelt was leading it, with Monarchstorm, herself, and Stormheart making up the rest. Monarchstorm waited near the rear for her to catch up.

"Sorry," Fawnpaw mewed. Monarchstorm said nothing, but flicked her ear with her tail playfully. The patrol travelled in silence for a while, stopping to rub their scent on trees.

"Better stay on your side of the border," a voice called out. Fawnpaw swiveled her ears and whipped her head around, searching for the source, but the only cats nearby were the rest of the patrol. A laugh sounded above her head at her obvious confusion, and she looked skyward.

Two SunkenClan cats were impossibly high in the branches, lounging as easily as she might on top of one of the dens. A black tom looked down on them with half-closed yellow eyes, his grey tabby companion seeming slightly less relaxed.

"Cicadafoot, Sootwhisker," Sandpelt mewed, his voice measured and calm, "What makes you think we're going to cross over?"

The black tom in the trees twitched his bushy tail. "It never hurts to make sure," he said, tail gently drifting in the breeze. Fawnpaw wrinkled her nose. The sea-scent was heavy today, the clouds heavy and dark in the sky- she hadn't even scented the SunkenClan cats over it. Shellfoot had sworn there'd be rain, and by the look and smell of things, she wasn't too far off.

"We won't cross as long as you don't," Monarchstorm meowed hotly, "Are you just there to harass us? We'd like to continue on our patrol."

"We have two things to tell you, actually," Sootwhisker piped up helpfully, descending to a lower branch as easily as a squirrel, "One, Briarstar respectfully asks you to keep an eye out for Snailpelt- she went missing yesterday."

"I'm sorry to hear that. The news will be passed along to Piperstar," Sandpelt meowed. Fawnpaw noted with a flick of her ear that he said nothing of the missing Redstripe. "And the second thing?"

Cicadafoot yawned, peering at his claws. "Yes, we scented fox on the border as well. It's not one we recognized, so it's probably young, and doesn't know to keep away from us yet. Keep a look out."

"Thank you for the warning," Stormheart meowed, dipping his head, "We'll keep an eye out for Snailpelt."

The two cats in the trees nodded before dashing away in the canopy, springing from branch to branch. Sandpelt watched them go before turning back to the rest of the patrol. They continued along the border for a while longer, making quiet conversation and stopping to remark the shrubs every so often.

Eventually Stormheart raised his head and sniffed the air. "It smells like rain is coming," he said, glancing around at the rest of the patrol, "We should get back to camp."

"We're done with the border anyway," Monarchstorm meowed, flicking her tail as they came up to a bayberry bush, "We should try to catch something on the way back if it's gonna rain, though. What if it floods?"

"Floods?" Fawnpaw squeaked, lowering her ears. Sandpelt ignored her, looking thoughtful. "Hunting quickly is a good idea. I'll take Fawnpaw, if that's okay- she should learn from some other cats once in awhile- and you and Stormheart go in the thickets. We'll meet back here when the sun touches the trees."

Monarchstorm nodded her affirmative, though Fawnpaw had her reservations about going hunting with a different cat than usual. Sandpelt was… nice, she supposed, but she'd never exchanged more than two words with him.

As it turned out, Sandpelt wasn't half-bad. He made some corrections to her stance that Monarchstorm hadn't noticed, before helping her scent any potential kills around. The sun lowered slowly in the sky, and before long, Fawnpaw had managed to catch a plump mouse. Not much prey was out- apparently, they had all caught wind of the rising storm as well, and retreated to higher ground.

She held her mouse in her jaws, scooping out a pawful of sand to bury it, when suddenly, her nose was assaulted with a foul odor.

Fawnpaw gagged. "What is that _stench_?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. When she turned to Sandpelt, she saw him standing stock-still, his mouth opened slightly.

Sandpelt's whiskers quivered, his tail sweeping across the ground. "The fox is nearby," he warned her, eyes narrowed, "If SunkenClan had to warn us, that means it's young and hungry. Most of the older foxes know to stay away from us."

Almost as soon as he said it, a twig snapped behind them. Fawnpaw's ears swiveled back a fraction of a second before her face did, and her eyes settled on the most terrifying thing she'd ever seen.

The creature was the size of a dog, its fur red and grizzled, its muzzle sharp and long. Its slitted amber eyes were fixated on the mouse Fawnpaw held in her jaws. It took a cautious, curious step forwards, its black nose twitching, lips curling to reveal two rows of pearly, sharp teeth. Fawnpaw watched in abject horror as it bunched its haunches to spring.

" _Run_!" Sandpelt snarled, shoving her forwards with his head. Fawnpaw didn't hesitate before sprinting, hearing the other cat's pawsteps and the fox's heavy panting behind her. Sandpelt sped up until they were running in sync.

"We can't outrun it," he panted, "And we can't lead it back to camp. Monarchstorm and and Stormheart will meet us at the thicket- we need to lead it there and drive it off with them, before it exhausts us."

Fawnpaw squeaked. _Drive it off? Has he seen how big it is?!_ Sandpelt seemed to take that as an affirmative, however, and as they neared the bayberry bush, he glanced behind them at the approaching fox. "Be ready to fight," he snarled, before he skidded to a halt.

The pale brown tabby whirled around and hissed at the fox, his fur puffed up and his fangs bared, and the fox skidded to a stop on the sand, seeming slightly confused. Sandpelt hissed again, arching his back. Fawnpaw held her body low to the ground, her ears flattened against her skull and her tail tucked under her body, and watched as the two sized each other up. Then, seemingly without warning, the fox lunged at Sandpelt, teeth snapping where his throat had been just a moment before. The warrior dodged the attack effortlessly. He swiped a pawful of sand at the fox's eyes, and before giving the fox a chance to recover, he sprang, digging his claws into its back and locking himself into a tussle.

The fox stumbled, made clumsy by the extra weight. Sandpelt didn't let up for a second, pummeling its white underbelly with his back paws and latching his teeth into its shoulder. Fawnpaw ducked down near the bush, hoping that Sandpelt would be able to take it on by himself.

"Fawnpaw!" Sandpelt yelled, "Don't just stand there! Attack it!"

The brown and white tabby could only stare, frozen, as the fox recovered from the assault and started to shake its fur, Sandpelt just barely hanging on by his claws and teeth. The warrior threw his weight heavily to one side, bringing the fox down with him, and the two rolled around together, shrieks and snarls echoing through the air.

 _Sandpelt can't do this alone_ , Fawnpaw thought, watching the fox pin the tabby down. She wanted to move, to tackle the fox over, but a paralyzing fear had dug its claws into her heart and rooted her feet to the ground, her blood like ice in her veins. She'd never even beaten Lionpaw in a mock-fight. If she went up against this, she knew without a doubt that she would die.

 _It's going to kill him._

Fawnpaw backed away.

Sandpelt kicked at its belly with powerful back legs. The fox gagged, winded, and the tom rolled out from under it, resting on shaky paws. " _Fawnpaw_!" he yowled.

But before the tabby could make another move, the fox lunged, its gaping mouth colliding with his neck. Its jaws closed with a sickening _crunch._ Sandpelt's screech cut off midway, and it shook him savagely around, his body flopping like a freshly-killed mouse. The fox then threw him, the tom sliding limply on the sand before coming to a halt in a patch of beach heather. He didn't get up.

Satisfied, the fox licked its jaws clean and turned to the mouse that Fawnpaw had caught and dropped, pulling it apart with sharp teeth. She couldn't tell whether it's fangs were stained red from Sandpelt's blood or from her catch that it was ripping to shreds. She backed up, slowly, carefully…

Her fur brushed up against the bush, the motion rustling the branches. The fox tossed the mouse into the air and swallowed, downing the mouse in one swift gulp. Then, it turned its burning eyes on her.

With scarcely a warning, it pounced. Fawnpaw shrieked and scrambled backwards, the hot breath of the beast clouding at her heels. Worming her way into a thicket, she curled up as small as she could make herself, praying to whoever would listen that the fox's long muzzle wouldn't be able to reach her. Its nose pushed through the brambles, yellow-tinted teeth stained with red, and Fawnpaw let out a terrified hiss, swiping wildly at its muzzle with dull claws.

The fox snarled and lunged again, fangs snapping a branch in half. She wriggled farther into the branches, feeling her blood roar in her ears. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. _This is it,_ she thought, _I'm going to die._

The fox took another snap at her, this time catching the tip of her tail. She screeched, feeling the pain course through her, and aimed a last, desperate strike at its bloodstained nose. It did little to deter the creature. Fawnpaw screwed her eyes shut, curling herself even smaller. The fox suddenly stopped its assault, snapping its head to its right, where the sound of approaching pawsteps echoed.

"Get out of here, you filthy-" Monarchstorm didn't get a chance to finish her sentence as she tackled the fox from the side, her weight and momentum causing it to stagger away from the bush surrounding Fawnpaw. Stormheart joined her, yowling a wordless battle cry, and together they ran circles around the fox, slashing with their fangs and claws. Fawnpaw watched them numbly, her heart beating wildly in her chest, before her gaze shifted to Sandpelt.

Even from her spot in the bush, she could see that his body lay stretched across the ground. Blood oozed from the wound on his neck, staining the sand and the beach heather dark red. She screwed her eyes shut, feeling her stomach churn. _I did that._

Eventually the sounds of the fight quieted, a victory yowl alerting Fawnpaw. Cautiously, she poked her head out of the bush. A drizzle pelted the sand. Monarchstorm and Stormheart had made their way over to Sandpelt's limp form, and they were huddled over him, speaking in hushed tones. Fawnpaw padded over slowly, her paws feeling leaden and her stomach like ice.

"He died a warrior's death," she heard Monarchstorm say, her voice cracking, "We have to take him back to camp."

"I'll take him," Stormheart offered, "You go find Fawnpaw. If that fox killed Sandpelt… Well. She's probably not in much better shape."

Almost imperceptibly, Fawnpaw saw Monarchstorm nod. Stormheart leaned down and grabbed Sandpelt's body by the scruff, dragging him uphill through the thickets. The dead tom's amber eyes were open and terrified, his face frozen in a half-finished scream that would never know completion. His claws were still out, dragging deep scores in the sand. Fawnpaw shuddered as they disappeared over the top of a dune.

Monarchstorm swallowed, watching the empty space ahead of her for a few long moments, before drawing a deep breath and turning around. As her eyes landed on Fawnpaw, the tortoiseshell's face was tinged with surprise. "Fawnpaw!" she exclaimed, bounding over to her, "You're-!"

She came to a stop a tail-length away. "You're… completely unharmed," the molly said, sniffing at Fawnpaw's face and pelt, "The fox didn't get a scratch on you, how…?"

Fawnpaw said nothing. Her tail dragged on the ground. Monarchstorm drew back, her yellow eyes narrowed, ears swiveled out. "You didn't fight it. Did you." Her tail lashed once. The rain fell harder.

It wasn't a question. Fawnpaw stared at her paws.

"Come with me." Monarchstorm's eyes were clouded, guarded. Fawnpaw trailed after her, feeling her stomach sink lower and lower as they padded near the camp. As soon as they were nearby, out of hearing range, Monarchstorm whirled around to face her, teeth bared.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" she snarled. Fawnpaw blinked, taken aback, but the molly didn't wait for a reply, pacing back and forth as the the furious downpour of rain soaked into the sand.

"You show complete disregard for the warrior code. You only think of yourself! At every turn, I've seen you put your own needs above your Clanmates. You're not a _kittypet_ anymore, Fawnpaw, it's time to stop acting like it. You cannot put yourself above your Clanmates. Do you not understand that you are supposed to give your _life_ for your Clan?"

Fawnpaw opened and closed her mouth. Nothing came out.

"You've been nothing but selfish since we took you in. You always take the bigger piece of prey. You always have something snide to say, you complain about basic duties, you don't even try at battle training. You clearly don't respect Piperstar- yes, I heard you talking after the Clan meeting the other day- Just- StarClan, Fawnpaw, do you think this is all a _game?!_ "

Fawnpaw's lip curled up in a snarl, all the frustration she'd felt over the past few moons exploding at once. "I- I never _asked_ you to take me in," she growled, "I didn't ask for any of this, actually. If it were up to me, I'd still be with my humans, and I'd be eating kittypet food and being petted and loving every _minute_ of it!" her voice raised to a yowl. "I'm sorry I'm not self-sacrificing enough for you, Monarchstorm, would you rather I have died trying to take on that fox?"

Even as she said the words, they felt hollow. She could have done more. She could have helped Sandpelt when he called for her, she could have ran and gotten Monarchstorm and Stormheart, she could have tackled the fox and bought them all a little more time. Monarchstorm's furious hiss brought her back to reality, and she watched as her mentor raised a paw, her claws unsheathed, as if she could barely hold herself back from striking her across the face. They stood like that for a long moment, Fawnpaw crouched with a defiant expression, Monarchstorm's paw in the air.

"M-monarchstorm?" Mantispaw's meek voice came from over the dune.

"What?!" The molly snarled, whipping her head around.

Mantispaw made a squeaking sound. "P-piperstar says that we're moving to the Swale, because the tide's too high."

Monarchstorm took a deep breath, turning slitted yellow eyes to Fawnpaw's cowering form. "We'll continue this later. Either get to camp and help with the evacuation, or leave and don't come back." she hissed, before stalking away over the dune. Mantispaw shot Fawnpaw a concerned look before following the tortoiseshell.

Fawnpaw took a deep, shuddering breath, letting her head hang between her paws. A bolt of lightning stuck the sea.

 **((A/N: Another downer chapter! next one will be a little less sad, I hope, although this one was a little bit of a break from the mystery and more about Clan life in general. We finally get to Fawnpaw's main issue: she is a coward. She's a coward and selfish, and while she might (at the moment) superficially fit in with the Clan, she's quick to run when the going gets tough.**

 **Pandean: aah thanks! I actually started reading yours, too, although i haven't had enough time yet to write a proper review, and i love it :3**

 **Guest: I wish I could tell you that I have a set update schedule, but I really don't, unfortunately! I just write whenever I have the time to do so, and post as soon as it's finished. Usually this will be on a weekend or a tuesday, though, so keep an eye out on those days!**

 **CloudJumper Kat: I'm glad you liked Piperstar! I wish I had more time to devote to her. Sadly she's not a huge part of this story ;v; and yes, Fawnpaw has to get her tail in gear and start figuring stuff out!**

 **Question: Do you thing Monarchstorm was justified in her yelling at Fawnpaw? Was Fawnpaw justified in being too scared to fight? leave your answers in the review box, if you want! thank you for reading! 3))**


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